


Hunting a Memory

by Schizzar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blaise Being a Prat, Comfort Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 13:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schizzar/pseuds/Schizzar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Fred's death, George has become little more than a zombie. Fortunately, Oliver is willing to help him recover. Unfortunately, it seems someone's out for his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> This was my project for a solid year. It was finished last year but I decided to post my favorite works on this site because this site keeps blowing my mind. As such, this is probably the only work I will not accept flames on. Reviews however, are quite loved. Please enjoy.

George stared down at his twin, looking for the last time, at his once living mirror. His mum was sobbing beside him, clenching his fingers so tight he thought they might snap off.

_Haha, add it to my list of disfigurements._

George rested his hand over Fred's, wishing they could switch places, or that he could join him. Either or really. He wrapped his arm around his mother's waist and led her away so that the remaining guests could pay their last respects. AS the people walked up, George found he couldn't recognize all of them. That pissed him off. If he didn't know who they were, Fred certainly hadn't either, so why were they paying their respects? What sadness did they feel?

He zoned out, blindly shaking the hands of those who passed by and offered their condolences. When a familiar hand slipped into his, he looked up, meeting the eyes of a friend he hadn't seen in quite a few years.

"Wood? That you?"

The old chaser gave a small smile. "How are you George?"

The red head shrugged. "Been better."

"I'm so sorry. He was...he was amazing."

George swallowed, choked up. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Contact me, if you need it. I'm only an owl away." Oliver produced a small piece of paper and George saw upon it was the man's address, elegantly written.

"Thanks. I...thank you."

The right side of Oliver's lips twisted up in a shy smile that George knew all to well, and then the man hugged him, tight. George didn't move, neither accepting nor rejecting the move, but unable to express his appreciation of it either. He wanted Fred back.

"Take care of yourself, George."

"You too."

 

-.-

 

_Two months later_

George stared blankly at the ceiling. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, and it smelt of musk and dust, with an underlying familiar scent that had him turning his face into his pillow every once in awhile, taking a deep inhale. In the flat above their store, George lie on the bed in Fred's room. He missed Fred. So much. How could he even think of going on without his twin, his other half?

Blimey, if he heard me now, he'd hit me upside the head, George thought.

But it was true. Fred really was his other half. And now he was gone. There was no one to read his thoughts, no one to hold him when he was so upset he couldn't speak, no one to play pranks with, no one to sit in the study and read with. No one to talk with.

George curled up in a tight ball, hugged the pillow close, and tried to sleep.

 

-.-

 

He was just flipping the open sign to close when with a pop, Ginny Weasley appeared at the entrance. She looked at him expectantly, gesturing towards the door. Sighing he opened it, just enough to peek his head out.

"Yes, darling sister?"

"Let me in now, George," she ordered sternly, eyes stubborn.

"Yes ma'am," George said, knowing better than to argue with her. As Ginny had grown older, he had found her stubborn streak to become progressively more apparent.

Ginny shoved her way inside, hands held behind her back. "Guess what I have."

"Ginny, I'm tired. Hurry up," George said.

"Oh fine, ruin the fun," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes, but revealed to George her prize. "Two tickets to Puddlemare United vs. Tutshill Tornados!"

George stared at the tickets for several tense seconds. "How? I thought they were sold out?"

"I have my ways," Ginny said, winking. "Now, come on. I hear Oliver's their Keeper now."

George felt his heart jump at the thought of seeing Oliver again, and actually watching a Quidditch game after it had been banned for so long. It had only been recently reinstated, with this game being the first to kick it off, so it really was a miracle that Ginny had managed to get the tickets. His sister was a bloody genius.

"Um...I don't have anything in Puddlemare colours," George admitted.

"So we'll change the color of your clothes when we get there. Come on!" Ginny grabbed his arm and with a pop they were outside the stadium.

Ginny waved her wand a few times and when George looked down, his dress shirt and pants had turned a deep navy blue with the two golden crossed bulrushes on the front.

"Uh, Ginny, I'm not that big a fan of them. I don't wanna seem like a dolt or something," George said, picking at the shirt with a look of mild distaste on his face.

"Oh shut up, you git," Ginny said, waving her wand once more so she matched him. "Now, take my arm. Let's go."

George obeyed, feeling a tad dizzy from how Ginny was yanking him every which way. He allowed himself to be dragged along through the crowd until they reached their seats...in the box office.

"Ginny-"

"Hush," Ginny said, holding her hand out to none other than Lee Jordan, the announcer.

"Ah Ginny. I see you managed to drag George all the way out here," the man said. "I didn't think you could do it. C'mere George!"

George could barely get a protest out before his old friend had him in a tight hug, thumping him on the back. "Hey Lee. How are you?"

"Not bad, not bad. Oliver asked me to be the commentator for this match, and seeing as how well liked I am by his team, they figured, why not? So here I am," Lee said. "Now come on, take a seat, take a seat."

George and Ginny obeyed, sitting down on either side of the man as he rubbed his hands together. "Is this how you got the tickets?"

"Actually, no," Ginny said. "I'm not telling George, now hush."

"Annnnd wizards and witches, it's time for the first Quidditch match of the season to begin!" Lee said, using his wand to amplify his voice.

George was nearly deafened by the cheers that rose throughout the stadium, and despite Ginny bouncing up and down beside him, he could not find himself to join in. Sure, he was happy to be there. Really, he was. But...it was hard to feel much of anything these days, or at least...let himself feel it.

"Meeting on neutral ground we have Puddlemare United-"

Again, the stadium was filled with cheers, and with Ginny's continual prodding, George let out a heartfelt, if quiet, cheer as well.

"Against the Tutshill Tornadossssss!"

All at once, the fliers of both teams emerged, bursting out onto the field and zipping around the towers. George and Ginny leapt to their feet as Oliver zipped past, but the Keeper didn't see them, instead heading for his position in front of the three hoops. Finally, the teams settled into position, with the referee in the middle, Quaffle in hand. Ginny held tight to George's hand as the Quaffle was thrown up.

The Chasers zipped in, with the Tutshill Tornados grabbing it first. The game had begun.

"There goes DiFranco with the Quaffle, but Johnson is baring down on her. Difranco had taken a bludger to the stomach!"

The Quaffle tumbled from the player's hand where another Chaser, adorned in Puddlemare colours snatched it up. She weaved in and out of the players, tossing the scarlet ball into the air and twirling on her broom, smacking it hard. It hurdled towards the goal and slipped in with barely an inch between it and the Keeper's fingers.

The game continued much in this way, with no one gaining any serious ground and with the snitch nowhere to be found. Ginny shrieked a bludger hurtled towards them, but a Tornado Beater cut it off, slugging it across the field towards another Beater.

"What's this? Beaters Thomas and Lake seem to be juggling a Bludger down the field! Thomas goes to hit it but-"

The crowd erupted into cheers as another Beater, this one in Puddlemare colours, smacked the ball hard with her bat.

"It seems the Snitch has been spotted! Puddlemare Seeker Huhn is coming up on it fast. Here comes Lock! Who will reach it first? It's gonna be close!"

A Bludger suddenly caught George's eye and he turned to look. The Beater, Thomas, smacked it hard and it zipped down the field, straight for Huhn. The Seeker glanced over her shoulder, as if sensing the danger, and at the last second rolled out of the way. Lock slipped past her only to take a different Bludger to the shoulder. The Seeker's cry was audible from the stands as he spiraled down towards the ground. Huhn didn't hesitate, closing the last remaining feet between herself and the golden Snitch, closing her hand around it.

"In an unbelievable stroke of luck, the Puddlemares have taken it!"

Ginny shrieked again, this time as she jumped up, flinging herself into George's arms. Laughing, he picked her up and twirled her around once, feeling better than he had in awhile.

"You're going to join us for the after party, aren't you mate?" Lee asked, leaning over away from his wand. "We're going somewhere fancy."

"That sure you were going to win?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I placed good money on this match. I had to be confident," Lee said. "So you'll come?"

"Of course we will," Ginny said.

"Oh and by the way, mate, Oliver says you're welcome down in the locker room," Lee added.

Startled, George looked at Ginny. "You got them from Oliver, didn't you?"

"I'm not telling. Now go on, I'll meet you at the entrance in a few minutes."

 

-.-

 

It didn't take George very long to find the locker rooms, seeing as how any of the guards just waved him through. When he walked in, he was surprised to see the whole team, men and women, in one room, cheering and shouting in excitement. Oliver broke away, rubbing a towel across his neck as he greeted his old friend.

"I see Ginny managed to get you out. Did you enjoy the game?"

"You set her up to this, didn't you?" George asked.

Oliver merely grinned. "So what if I did? Couldn't have you missing the most important game of all time, now could I? Lee extended my invitation, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. Great job out there. I almost thought you'd get hit in the chest there a few times. Those Beaters were vicious," George said. "Fr- We never tried anything that dirty, did we?"

"You mean juggling the Beater down the field to bean the Keeper in the bloody head?" Oliver asked. "Thomas and Lake have done that trick before. Our team won't fall for it again."

"Hell no we won't!"

George recognized the owner of the voice as the Beater who had saved the Keeper from an injury, a short girl with jet black hair cropped so short, he would've mistaken for her as a guy if she hadn't spoken.

"Ah, this is Chris Lane. Chris, meet George Weasley, a Beater on my old school team."

Chris seized his hand and shook it. "Pleased to meet you. A friend of Oli's is a friend of ours."

"Oli?"

"You," Oliver said, jabbing his finger into Chris's well padded chest. "Are not supposed to call me that."

"I'll meet you later," George said, nudging Oliver's side. "I gotta go meet Ginny."

"Right. Ginny knows where to go. See you in a few," Oliver said, before continuing his verbal assault on the female Beater.

When George connected again with Ginny, she was frowning, staring intently at his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, moving forward to touch his arm.

"Gin, I don't want to go tonight," he said. "I just...I just want to go home."

"No. I am not having any of that. You have been sulking up in that shop for way too long George. I won't have it, and neither will Oliver. You're going to go out, get completely wasted, and have some one night stand with a random girl, or guy, or bloody animal for all I care. Understand me?"

To be completely honest, George was a little shell shocked by the language coming out of his baby sister, but he nodded nonetheless. "Oliver said you knew where to go."

"Yes, I do." Ginny smiled brightly. "Come on."

 

-.-

 

George walked into the pub with Ginny on his arm. It was full to the brim with the Puddlemare team and their fans, and it was so loud George once again feared he might go deaf.

"We're going to the private section," Ginny said, tugging him through the throng of people.

Oh my, special treatment, George thought, rolling his eyes.

They reached a doorway with a navy blue banner hanging over to keep people from seeing inside. Oliver peeked around it, eyes sparkling.

"Password?"

"Chris is sexy in fishnets," Ginny replied.

"See Chris? Everyone thinks you should wear fishnets!" Oliver said as he let them inside.

"Just because you made it the bloody password doesn't mean they think that, you git," Chris snapped.

The private room was just a large booth cut off from the rest of the pub, and around it the two Beaters, two of the Chasers, and the Seeker sat.

"Have a seat," Huhn said, purple ponytail flopping as she shifted over onto the lap of the male Beater.

Ginny slid in first, followed by George and finally Oliver.

"Alright then. Chris you've met. Li Huhn is our Seeker," Oliver said.

The petite woman smiled and waved and George couldn't help but be reminded of Tonks. It was probably the hair.

"Colin is our other Beater, and the two Chasers we have here are Lauren Johnson and Fredrick Carthy," Oliver said.

"Okay, so now that your friends are here, I demand another round of drinks!" Chris said, thumping her open palm on the table.

Several drinks later, George slipped outside and into the night air. He had started to feel a tad cramped, even dizzy from the stifling feel of the pub, and it was hard to look at Li and not see someone else.

"Hey, you alright, mate?"

George could tell it was Oliver, so he nodded. "Great ploy by the way."

Oliver slid up beside him. "This? I just didn't want you gettin' lonely at that shop of yours."

"Bloody hell, what is with you all? Checking up on me all the bloody fucking time. I'm fine, dammit."

"I told you to contact me two months ago, and nothing. So I got in touch with Ginny to see how you were. Seeing as how you got so anti-social, we figured we'd try and cheer you up at least, and all you've been is a stubborn prick about it. I think I saw you smile once in there. Maybe."

"Because Ton-" George stopped, feeling the an overwhelming urge to scream, but he reigned it in. Shut it down. "Because Li looks like Tonks. And I keep looking at her just thinking about how...oh fuck what do you care?"

He whipped out his wand to Apparate away but Oliver grabbed his wrist and pulled him close.

"Stop running. We all lost people George. And it's really hard to get over it, but you're not doing yourself any favors by running away from the people who care about you."

"Let go."

"Promise you'll stay in touch."

George glowered at the Keeper. "Fine. I promise."

Oliver had barely released his arm before he was gone.

 

-.-

 

When he arrived back home, he opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out his bottle of scotch. He almost grabbed a cup, but decided not to bother; it was only him after all. He made his way to his room, but when he opened the door he stopped dead. There, on his bed, sat Ginny, twirling her hair innocently around one finger.

"You gonna share that?" she asked.

"Can I get two seconds of peace?"

"No. Now sit. I wanna talk."

George obeyed, taking a giant gulp of the scotch and letting it burn a path down to his belly. Ginny snatched it up as he sat down and took a drink.

"Thought you'd be a light weight," he commented. "Or get all those frilly drinks."

"Me too," Ginny said, flopping onto her back with George following suit. "I miss Fred."

"Yeah. I do too." He grabbed the bottle, took a sip, then passed it back.

"Remember when he set your hair on fire?"

"You were only 4, how do you remember that/"

"Ron told me."

George snorted, grabbing the bottle. "Ron exaggerated. It was only a little spark. Oh! What year did we turn your hair into snakes?"

Ginny sighed. "Your first year. Mum and I came to visit you and Fred, and then Fred hexed me on accident."

"Hey Ginny, I got a secret," George whispered, turning to look at her.

"Hm?"

"It wasn't an accident." He blew straight into her ear, laughing as she flew upright with a squeal.

"George! Really!" She slapped his thigh as he sat up, slipping the bottle away from her. When he stood, he took another drink.

"Did I ever tell you about the Yule Ball?"

Ginny shook her head as she leaned forward with a small smile on her lips. "What happened?"

"It was after Angelina agreed to go with him, and he was scared shitless cuz he didn't know how to dance, contrary to popular belief. So I taught him. Had no sense of rhythm but damn he could dance when I got done with him."

Ginny giggled. "How'd you decide who led and who followed?"

"Well, as much as Angelina wore the pants in the relationship, she would be wearing the dress so I was the woman."

"Didja wear a dress?"

George shook his head. "Fred tried to make me, but I'm not that much of a poof."

He passed the bottle back and sat back down.

"Do you fancy blokes at all?" Ginny's voice was quiet as she turned to look at him.

"Don't know. Don't care either. Not too keen on marrying either way," George said.

"Really? Just gonna grow up a lonely old man?" Ginny mused.

"I'll buy some cats."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"What? Crazy cat ladies aren't ever lonely!"

"You're so stupid." Ginny nudged him and kissed his cheek. "Look. I'm gonna go before I get too drunk to Apparate. Talk to Oliver. He's...he's special."

"What the bloody freaking hell're you mumbling about?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her as he gave her a wet kiss on the forehead.

She shoved him off as she wiped at her forehead, but when she looked at him, there was nothing but seriousness in her eyes. "He cares about you, George. Talk to him some more. He's had to deal with his own losses too."

"How in the hell do you know more about him than I do?"

"I've talked to him, George. I actually send him an owl every once in awhile," she said. "Now rest up. And set up a time to hang out with Oliver. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Have a nice night Ginny. And thank you."

Ginny smiled, moving forward to hug him tight. "Anything for you George. I love you. I don't want to have to start missing you too, when you're still here."

George swallowed thickly and released her. Moments later she was gone. Sighing, he flopped onto his bed and shoved his face into the pillow before screaming as loud as he could, wishing that just once, he could cry.

 

-.-

 

George really didn't want to contact Oliver. But he also din't feel like incurring the wrath of Ginny, so during a free moment in the shop, he sat down with a quill and a piece of parchment.

The door opened, and without looking up, George called out, "Come back in a half hour. I'm on break."

When the only response was footsteps, George looked up, an angry order on his lips until he saw that the man standing before him was robed in all black with a mask all too familiar to him. He threw himself under the desk as the man pulled his wand out.

"Avada Kedavra!"

George sprang back as the desk erupted into green flames, whipping out his own wand and aiming it at the Death Eater.

"Stupefy!"

The man flew back, crashing into one of the shelves and knocking it over. George quickly put out the fire, despite the fact that the desk was already past being ruined.

"Who are you?" George demanded as the Death Eater stumbled to his feet.

The mask slipped away in a cloud of black wisps, but before he could move, or see who it was, the Curcio curse hit him. He collapsed, groaning as his body convulsed in pain. It went on and on, so long he couldn't speak, couldn't scream, could barely think. It hit him again and he screamed, the noise tearing out of his throat, tears racing down his face. He couldn't do this. He couldn't survive. Fred-


	2. Solid Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could probably be divided up into two parts but meh. Reviews are loved as always.

"How are you feeling?"

The voice belonged to Ginny and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"Bed's rubbish," he mumbled.

He was at St. Mungo's. The use of a Forbidden Curse had drawn the Ministry to his shop within a minute, though it had felt much longer to him. The Death Eater had slipped away before they had arrived and no one had caught his identity.

"You would complain about that," she said. "They said you'll be released soon, but the Aurors want to take you into custody for protection. At least until they find out who tried to murder you."

"Tell them to hop off. I'll protect myself, thank you," George drawled.

"Because that worked so well the first time! Can't you must make their job easier and do what they ask?" Ginny demanded. "We can't lose you too George!"

"Fine. I'll stop by their office."

Ginny shook her head. "One of them is here already. She's going to talk to you, and you won't object."

She stood up and walked out the door, holding it open for his Auror.

"Katie?"

The dirty blond crooked an eyebrow at him. "Hi George."

"Since when did you want to be an Auror? I thought-"

"Shut up and let me talk. You were attacked by a Death Eater. There are only three Death Eaters we know of that haven't been caught. As you can imagine, we want to capture these three before they do anymore damage. So, you will be allowed to go home," Katie Bell said.

"I thought you wanted to take me into custody?"

"We did, but I argued against it. The Death Eaters obviously want you dead. That makes you the perfect bait, in my eyes."

George's eyes narrowed. "Since when did you get so ruthless?"

"I've always been this way, Weasley. It only shows when I'm really pissed off. You were tortured; that pisses me off."

George was a little startled by Bell's words. Who figured she cared so much about him? "So what's the plan?"

"Two Aurors are going to live with you. No, I will not be one of them. You will be living with Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini."

George was pretty sure his eye was twitching at this point. "Zabini? He's an Auror?"

"He's a very capable wizard," Katie said, her tone daring George to protest.

He accepted the challenge. "He's a Slytherin!"

"Dammit George! I would not put him in charge of your safety if I thought he was helping the Death Eaters! Now go home. Granger and Zabini are already there."

"Lovely. Breaking and entering is illegal, Bell. Thought you knew that."

"Do you want to die?"

George remained silent.

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

"Just try not to get killed. It looks bad on me."

"Yes ma'am."

 

-.-

 

"Mum! Can I go visit a friend?" George called, peeking into his study where Hermione was.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll be going with you."

"Do you have to?"

"It's me or Zabini. I only have to be close enough to protect you, so you can have your privacy and have your own conversations without be eavesdropped on." Hermione set her book down and stood up. "Where are we off to then?"

"Oliver Wood's. He's been wanting to see me since the attack," George said.

"Alright. Let's go. Don't try and trick me either," Hermione said, pointing her wand in his face.

He pulled out his own and Apparated away, appearing at the doorstep of Oliver's house with Hermione a heart beat behind him. Oliver opened the door before he even had a chance to knock.

"That eager to see me, mate?"

Oliver shrugged. "I was heading downstairs to grab some water and saw you appear. Come on in."

Oliver had done well for himself. The house wasn't huge, but the emptiness made it feel lonely and bigger than what it actually was. Everything was pristine and neatly packed away on shelves and in cabinets, but Oliver didn't allow much time for exploration, instead leading both him and Hermione upstairs.

"Feel free to go wherever you'd like," Oliver said. "I have a rather extensive library."

"I bet I've read everything in it too," Hermione said with a mischeivous glint in her eye, before bouncing off to the study.

"Would you like a grand tour?" Oliver asked.

"I want to talk," George said, the light in his eyes dying away instantly. "I can't do this."

Oliver's expression became serious as he grabbed George's arm, dragging him into his bedroom. Unlike the rest of the house, Oliver's room was dirty and messy, and the walls were plastered with posters of Quidditch teams.

"Sit," he said, gesturing towards a chair. "What's going on?"

George sat down in the small chair, suddenly finding it impossible to look Oliver in the eyes. "Have you ever felt a Cruciatus curse, Oliver?"

"Can't say I have. Almost, a few times during the battle. George, are you okay?"

The red head gave a short, barking laugh. "No. I haven't been. And then that whole incident just...it threw me. I wanted to die. I wanted him to kill me, and not just because it hurt. I...I felt like I was getting what I deserved."

"George..." Oliver's hand came down on his shoulder, shaking him lightly until he looked up. "Fred's death was not your fault. You do not deserve any pain for what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"I can't even go home, Oliver. My mum, she just stares at me. She never talks to me. She just stares, like she wishes I was gone. Bill hasn't spoken to me since the funeral; in fact, Ginny is the only one I've seen. If I go home, all I get is empty stares. They don't want me. They want Fred."

Oliver grabbed George's hand and pulled him to his feet, grabbing his chin to force him to look into his eyes. "I want you George. I miss Fred. I do. But I want you. I want to spend time with you. I want you at my games, I want you at my parties, I just want you around. They'll get over it eventually."

George twisted out of his grip. "I..."

Oliver sighed and sat down on his bed, leaning against the back wall. "Sit down. Next to me, George."

George obeyed. Since when did he become so obedient? He did everything Ginny asked of him, everything Katie demanded, and everything Oliver wanted. He was just living for other people, a willing puppet to their whims. He hadn't even realized he was crying until Oliver was wiping away his tears.

"Georgie. Talk to me."

"Don't call me that. Only Fred calls me that."

"I called you that. That time you got your teeth knocked out by a bludger. I called you Georgie," Oliver said.

"That's different," George grumbled.

"Of course it is. You're getting me side tracked. What's wrong George? Tell me. I want to be here for you, but it's hard when you keep locking down your feelings like this," Oliver said.

"That's the whole point," George spat, jerking away from Oliver once more. "I don't want to feel anything. If I feel, I start thinking. You know, those are the first tears I've shed since Fred died? Just then. I haven't cried about him being dead, and cold, and feeding the bloody worms. If I do, it means he's really gone."

He froze when a pair of lips touched his neck. "George. Let him go."

George didn't move as Oliver's arm moved around his waist to tug him closer. He only swallowed as Oliver peppered his neck with light kisses. "I can't."

"Yes you can. It'll be hard, but you have to start feeling again, otherwise you won't learn how to function on your own," Oliver whispered, his lips moving against George's skin as he spoke.

"I don't want to. I've always had someone else. I can't live without someone else."

Oliver pulled back, guiding George's face towards his. It was hard to make George look anyone in the eyes, and it seemed that to even come close, Oliver would have to hold him there. "You can't live dependent on someone forever George."

"Why not?"

"Because look at how you are when there's no one there. You need to stop locking everything up, you need to start feeling again. You need to cry that Fred's gone and never coming back, because if you don't it's still locked up and you can't move on," Oliver whispered.

George leaned forward, resting his head against Oliver's shoulder. "I don't want to move on."

"You have to. Sooner or later."

Oliver didn't say anymore. He didn't need to because George was already crying again and feeling like a total pouf while doing it in another man's arms. He tugged Oliver closer so he was practically on the man's lap, but they didn't do anything, only holding each other as a way to bring comfort.

"Oliver?" George mumbled, pulling away and rubbing at his eyes, as if that would stop Oliver from noticing.

"Hm?"

George shifted away from him completely, keeping a large distance between them. "Did you lose anyone during the war?"

Oliver shrugged. "My dad. Some Death Eaters killed him for being a blood traitor. My mum killed herself soon after."

"I'm sorry. Was it...recent?"

"No. It was a month after they seized control of the Ministry. I've been living here since they died, as the house was left to me and I was not considered a blood traitor," Oliver said.

"I've been such a selfish git." George ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I haven't been thinking about anyone else at all."

Oliver snorted. "No, you haven't. Your family wants to see you George, so don't avoid them forever."

"Come with me, if I go visit," George said.

Oliver shook his head. "I can't let you become dependent on me George."

"So what? Do I just shy away from every possible relationship and friendship so I don't become dependent?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Oliver muttered. "But they're your family. You need to talk to them yourself. It's something you have to do for yourself, by yourself. You have to learn to be strong. It's hard but..."

"I guess you're right."

Oliver chuckled, causing George to look over at him. "You pouting. It's...cute. And a little funny."

 _Did Oliver just call me cute?_ "Oliver, are you a pouf?"

Oliver leaned forward, his eyebrow crooking up with an all too familiar smirk on his face. The smirk he made whenever he had just won something big. "You think I am?"

"I don't know. You were making a mess of my neck a second ago."

Oliver leaned back again as he laughed. "You're so dense, Georgie." When he moved in again, their lips met. George felt his breath stop, and when he didn't respond, Oliver pressed closer, pushing him down on the bed. Only a few seconds later, he pulled back, forehead pressed to George's.

"I think...that answered my question," George said. "But I'm failing to see how this helps me become less dependent."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't have done that," Oliver murmured.

"Do it again."

George wrapped his arms around Oliver's neck, bringing him close. He would never tell Oliver, but it was his first kiss. He had never kissed anyone while he had been at Hogwarts, having never found someone he was attracted to. Actually, Oliver might've been the only person he had ever thought of in a romantic sense, and even then it was only in passing.

"Damn, I really do fancy blokes," George muttered, stopping a mere inch before their lips met.

"Huh?"

"I...I need to think about this," he said.

Oliver smiled, pulling back. "Think as long as you want. I've always fancied you a little."

"I just figured you were asexual to be honest," George said, crooking an eyebrow at him.

"Ah, so I've heard many times." Oliver pushed himself up so he was once again sitting. "Look, George. I want to spend more time with you. I want to get to know you more, and I want to help you get over the pain of having someone so close gone. I want...I want to help you in any way I can. So let's just...let it go as it wants. If something more comes of it, then we'll deal with it."

"I would like that," George said. "But I should go now."

Oliver moved close again, hovering over George before he could sit up. "Just let me do one last thing, okay?"

George felt his heart pounding as he nodded, and when Oliver pressed their lips together once more, he responded. Oliver's fingers feathered over his cheek as they kiss continued, growing deeper and deeper until Oliver's tongue lightly touched his lips. He pulled back then, breathless.

"That's far enough. From now on, we're friends," George said quietly.

Oliver nodded, getting up and then helping the red head up as well. "Go home and think. And visit your family, George."

"I will."

"And one more thing," Oliver said. "Don't run away from me. Or I'm going to chase after you."

"I'm alright with that," George said with a grin, hopping off the bed before Oliver could hit him. "But I won't run."

 

-.-

 

"Hermione, you can't do this to me! At least my family likes you!"

"George, stop being a child." Hermione sat across from George on a stack of boxes, arms folded across her chest. "I have to be somewhere, so Blaise is the only one who can go home with you. You'll be fine, and I promise Blaise will be on his best behaviour. He won't make any snide comments about you, or anyone in your family, so relax."

George paced around the storeroom as Hermione spoke. When he had told Hermione his plans to visit his family, he had thought the witch would be going with him, but it seemed that she had another mission she needed to deal with, leaving him with Blaise. Who he had yet to talk to in the three days he had been living with them.

"Ah, you're probably right Hermione. I'm just..."

"Nervous." The brown haired woman smiled and hopped off the boxes to grab both of George's hands in her own. "Don't worry George. You let them know you're coming, and you're just going to have a family dinner. It'll be just like it always was."

"But it's not."

Hermione sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Well, I guess I better go get the stupid git now. Good luck on your mission, Hermione, and try not to feel too guilty about me being a total prat."

The witch laughed.

 

-.-

 

"Remember, don't say anything-"

"Offensive. Yes, yes, I know. Let's just go inside," Zabini said, eyes raking up and down the Burrow as if it were the most disgusting thing he had ever laid eyes on.

George knocked and then opened the door, peeking inside. He was instantly tackled by Ginny, who threw him so off balance he nearly ran into Zabini, causing the Auror to make a noise of discontent. Neither of the red heads paid him any mind.

"Come on inside. Mum's just finishing up in the kitchen, but she might have some work for you."

"But I'm a man! Men don't cook! That's what women are for!"

"George," Ginny sighed, dragging him inside.

They entered the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was. She turned and gave a strained smile, holding her arms out for a hug. George accepted it gingerly, clamping down hard on his emotions. He had to be strong, even if his mum looked at him with eyes that said she wished he was someone else.

"You won't have to do any work. Percy and your father will be off work soon, and Ron's up in his room if you want to see him," his mum said.

George looked at Zabini, crooking an eyebrow up. "Can I go up by myself, oh wonderful keeper?"

Zabini glared at him but nodded curtly. George resisted the urge to sneer at the Auror, and turned to bound up the stairs to Ron's room. He paused at the door, taking in a deep breath. Would Ron look at him with the same eyes as his mum?

He knocked on the door and when it opened, Ron was there with a grin on his face. Before he could react, Ron tugged him forward into a tight hug.

"Bloody hell, I missed you man. Why'd you leave?"

George chuckled, pulling back so he could muscle his way into his baby brother's room. "I have a business to run, to support myself, Ronald. I'm not a free loader like you."

"You could've stopped by for dinner. Or something. Mum's been going crazy worrying on about you."

George shrugged, flopping on to Ron's bed and knocking off a few pillows in the progress. "She looks so haunted all the time. Makes me feel guilty."

Ron hopped up onto his desk. "She's adjusting. You being away makes it harder for her."

"She makes me guilty, so I want to stay away but...I realized that was selfish."

Ron snickered. "Yeah, you were. But so was I. I should've reached out to you like Ginny did, but I was so wrapped up...never mind. It's stupid now. Let's just have a good dinner, okay?"

"That'll be a little difficult seeing as how my body guard's here," George said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh right, the little prat, Zabini, right?"

"Yup. My little shadow," George said. "I can take care of myself perfectly fine."

Ron was silent, looking down at his hands as he wrung them, gnawing on his lip. "You know, Mum was really scared when she heard you'd been attacked. By a Death Eater no less. It really worried her. She doesn't want to lose you too."

"Yeah. Yeah I know. It scared me too Ron," George muttered. He sat up when he heard the door downstairs open. "That Percy and dad?"

Ron nodded, getting off the desk. "Come on. Dinner will be ready."

When they got downstairs, his mum had prepared a large meal, much like the ones George was used to. He and his father had hugged but when he looked at Percy...all he could feel was hate. If he could chose, Percy would be the dead one, and good riddance. As soon as he thought those thoughts though, he regretted them and gave his older brother a tight smile.

"So how was work today?" Ginny asked, passing the rolls down to Zabini who accepted them with a small nod.

"The usual. Wizards in and out, trials every five minutes. Non stop work," Arthur said. "How are you George? Is the shop running well?"

"Very much so," George said as he spooned some mashed potatoes onto his plate. "I'm thinking of opening another store, once I take on some more workers. If I do. It's really just a rough idea now but we-I have the money to do so."

"I have some connections. I mean. If you want," Percy said quietly. "I know some people who would be willing to rent out their stores to you in Hogsmead."

George looked over at him. "Thank you, Percy. I'll let you know."

"Ah, Fred, could you pass the potatoes?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

George nearly dropped his fork at his Mum's words, his throat tightening. Silence reigned over the table, and George found he couldn't meet any of their gazes, instead just staring down at his plate in shock. He set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin before standing.

"Thanks for the meal, Mum. I need to go."

Before anyone could protest, he had Apparated back into his flat, Zabini appearing next to him right after.

"You are not going anywhere else tonight," Zabini said firmly. "I don't care how your'e feeling, I'm not chasing you around."

"Shut up, ya bloody prick. Go suck yourself or something," George growled, shoving past the man and into the kitchen. "I'll I'm going to get is a drink and go to bed so sod off."

"As you wish." The words were dripping with sarcasm.

Zabini walked back to where the bedrooms were, leaving George alone in the hallway. George looked down at his wand, wondering if Zabini would try and follow him if he really did vanish.

"No time like the present," George mused, and vanished with a pop.

 

-.-

 

George rested his head on Oliver's shoulder, tucking his face into the Keeper's neck and sighing. The man's fingers trailed lazily through his hair and George could tell the man was on the edge of sleep. When he had first shown up, Oliver had been a little shocked but once George had told him what happened, he had taken the red head into his arms and just held him. And nothing more. They had ended up in Oliver's room, snuggled together and only rarely did they speak.

"She doesn't want me," George mumbled.

"Yes she does. She loves you."

George shook his head. "I tried. I really did. But she just...she can't even see me as my own person. I can't even see me as my own person. I was talking about starting another shop, expanding you know, and I said 'we'. Like Fre-like he was still here or something."

Oliver tugged him closer, somehow. Silence reigned over them again, and for awhile, George thought that maybe the Keeper had fallen asleep on him. But then,

"So how pissed is Zabini going to be?"

"Probably going to kill me or convince Katie to lock me up," George said. "Not that I care what that prat does."

"They're just trying to keep you safe-"

"And being followed around definitely won't attract attention. Which I guess is the point." George sighed, rolling away from Oliver and looking up at the ceiling.

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked, turning on his side to look at the redhead.

George avoided his gaze. "Katie Bell. She's in charge of this case, and she's using me as bait to draw out the remaining Death Eaters, or at least the one that tried to kill me. Zabini and Granger are around to stop me from actually dying."

"You serious?"

George nodded. "Don't know why he'd even bother trying again if I'm never alone anymore. Bloody Death Eaters aren't so suicidal they'll go in, three to one."

"You'd be surprised," Oliver murmured. "There was only one when they killed my dad. And everyone was home when that happened."

"No offense, but your parents weren't Aurors. It's a little different," George muttered.

"You should probably go back, George. It's for your own good," Oliver said. "Just stay safe, please, or at least until this has all blown over."

George pushed himself up so he could stand up, running a hand through his hair. "I seem to be getting ordered around a lot lately."

"George, you know that's not what I'm trying to do," Oliver said, grabbing his wrist.

George jerked away. "Everyone keeps telling me what to do, telling me it's for my own good. Like I can't think for myself or something. I'm not a child, and I'm not some delicate, grieving idiot who needs to be pampered so he doesn't become overcome by his own grief and off himself."

Oliver's expression became angry and the next time he grabbed George, the red head found he could not break free at all. "Shut up, you bloody prat. You're being damn selfish. Maybe you don't need to be coddled, but we all still care about you so we're gonna keep at it until we know you're safe."

George struggled against the Keeper's grip once more, but the wizard just shoved him up against the wall. "Let go."

"No. Not until I'm done talking. You need to get out of this self-obsessed rut of yours and man the fuck up. I do care about you, George, I really do. But all your self pity and wallowing isn't going to help anyone. Your mother loves you. Your family loves you. Even if they mess up and make mistakes, you should still make an effort to stay with them and help them through their own grief. It's damn lonely trying to be strong all by yourself."

"I-"

"Stop making excuses. So your mum said something without thinking. I know it hurts but at least she's there to say it."

George leaned against the wall, relaxing in Oliver's grip. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Oliver said, letting to of George's shoulders to press his hands onto the wall. "Apologize to Granger when she finds out you broke the rules. And apologize to your mum and everyone else too."

"Should I apologize to Zabini too?" George asked, rolling his eyes.

"Nah, Zabini's a prick," Oliver said as he pulled away so he could look George in the eyes again. "Stop by again if you can. If not...send an owl my way."

"Hey Oliver?" George looked at his feet.

"Yeah?"

"You won't lose me. I would bring your parents back if I could but...the only thing I can really do is promise that I won't leave you alone in this world."

"Thanks, George."

 

-.-

 

Zabini was pacing in front of George. The red head was expecting to see anger, or hate, or some other negative feeling on the Auror's face, but instead, all he had to go on was a blank slate. Absolutely nothing showed on Zabini's face which made George more nervous.

"I wish Bell had the will to lock you up and be done with it," Zabini said coldly. "You have done nothing but break the rules we set in place to keep you safe."

"I won't break them anymore. Now stop acting like you're my bloody father," George said.

"Maybe you should stop acting like a child and I will. Granger is away until tomorrow morning setting certain plans in place. If you stay obedient in that time, then I will not mention your actions."

"I will be a positively darling child. You won't hear a peep from me," George said, getting to his feet and heading for the door that led out of the study.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Weasley. I would like this matter to be cleared up so I can deal with more important things."

George paused and then turned. "Are you implying that capturing a Death Eater is not important?"

"No, I'm implying that guarding you and keeping you alive is not really something I care too much about," Zabini said.

"Mmm, I feel so safe now." George leaned against the door. "Why did you become an Auror, Zabini, if you didn't want to protect people and take down murderers."

"Get out of my sight, Weasley."

"This is my house, in case you didn't notice. I'll stay here if I damn well want to."

"I suggest you remove yourself before I force you to. Leave, Weasley."

George smirked and then bowed, opening the door and disappearing into the hallway, but not before dropping a dungbomb on the floor. He was pleased to hear Zabini shout his name in anger before making his way to Fred's room. He slipped inside and into the connecting bathroom to wash his hands free of the unpleasant residue the dungbomb had left behind. Perhaps it was not appropriate to treat Zabini in such a way, but he really was a prat so in George's mind, he deserved every bit of unpleasantness that came his way. He might've felt guilty about playing tricks on the wizard, if he knew Zabini actually wanted to keep him alive, but since the pure blood probably didn't care if he lived or died, he felt absolved of any regret.

 

-.-

 

George flipped the closed sign to open, rubbing his forehead as he did so. It was that time again, when all the wizard and witches hit up Diagon Alley for last minute shopping before Hogwarts reopened for the year. As a result, he would rake in a large amount of profits, but for some reason he couldn't pep himself up at the idea. The profits of today would probably get him the last bit he needed to open another shop but...

"Hey."

George turned to see Hermione descending the staircase from the flat above, a small smirk on her face. "Good morning."

"I should probably yell at you for what you did to Blaise last night but...he had it coming," Hermione said, sitting down on the steps. "He told me you snuck out. But he also told me why you did it and...I'm going to let it slide. Just this once though. Anything after this and I'll let Katie deal with you, and I'm sure no one wants that."

George grinned. "Of course not."

"Do you want help with the shop today?" Hermione asked, head tilting to the side.

"Your help would be lovely," George said. "Though I don't know if you're the right person to help me corrupt all those young souls. I'll be teaching them the best ways to get around Filch you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll just stay at the counter and you can slip people all the tips you want."

George winked, extending a hand to help her to her feet. "I dare say, this is progress. I have corrupted you a little bit it seems."

"Oh?"

"Now you'll be turning a blind eye instead of harping on us," George said. "Certainly an improvement."

Hermione's hand slackened in his. "You said...never mind." She pulled away and headed towards the store room. "Is there anything we should stock before people start showing up?"

George winced. He had said 'us'. There was no us, no we, no them. Not anymore. "Uh, yeah. I'll grab it."

He moved past her and into the store room, trying to remember what he would need to bring up to restock the shelves. Normally, it wouldn't be that big of a problem to leave the shelves as they were, but on days like today, it was best to be fully stocked before anyone arrived. When he emerged again with a box full of items, Hermione was sitting on the counter chatting away with Ginny.

"Hey George. Need some help?" Ginny asked.

"Is everyone going to come out today?" George shot back, handing the box to her. "Hold that and follow me."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him but obeyed anyways. "So I'll get a family discount right? I need to buy some things for this year."

George stuck his hand into the box and began to restock the supply of Skiving Snackboxes. "Is our sister finally crossing over to the dark side? Ready to pull all sorts of pranks?"

"No, I just wanna get out of Potions," Ginny said. "I have no interest in harming other students like you did."

"Aw, Mum would be so proud," George said.

Ginny stumbled suddenly, knocking into George as Zabini brushed past her. He didn't say a word of apology, vanishing out the door before anyone could say anything to him. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's just being a prat," George said. "Grumpy that I was so rude to him last night, not that I care."

"Mum says she's sorry." Ginny set the box down on the ground so she could look George in the eyes easier. "She says she wants you to come for dinner again, before I leave for school."

George leaned forward, grabbing Ginny's shoulder and pulling her forward to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry too. I'll come."

Ginny smiled but before she could say anything else, the door opened and Oliver rushed in, looking like he had death on his heels.

"Oh bloody hell, what now?" George snapped.

"I need your help George. I need a Beater."

"Um...what?"

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. "Colin has a family emergency and is going to be gone for our next game. We have no one else to put in, and we have a game in two days. Chris said to ask you."

George looked at Ginny and then back at Oliver. "I uh...you are aware I haven't played since my 7th year, right?"

"That's not the point!"

"Aren't you supposed to have reserves for this sort of thing?" Ginny asked.

"We never have for Beaters. I mean, we should, we just never did. George, please?"

"Absolutely not," Hermione said, rounding the corner. "You playing Quidditch is way too dangerous. It would be so easy for someone to kill you there."

"Because you know, a Death Eater is going to show up at a Quidditch match," George said. "Hermione, people would recognize one of the only Death Eaters left roaming. I'll be fine."

"And the field is protected by shields against that sort of thing," Oliver piped up.

"Don't tell me you're actually considering this?" Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "George, you haven't played Quidditch in years. What good will you be to them?"

"In all fairness, while George is not up to professional standards, he's still a damn good Beater. Can you at least go to one practice and see if you can do it?" Oliver asked. "We need to win this match."

"Please Hermione?"

"Please?" Ginny threw in.

Hermione stared at the three of them, hands on her hips as she gnawed her lip. "Alright fine. You win. But I'm checking the shield before hand and if it's not up to my standards, no deal. Understand me?"

"Aw, Granger, you're a life saver!"

Hermione shoved Oliver away before the Keeper could hug her. "I'll be by to check the shields tonight. Is it at your field?"

"Yeah, it is. Bring George with you, 6 o'clock sharp. That's when practice starts," Oliver said. "But while I'm here-"

"No, I don't need any help," George interrupted. "Thank you though. I'll see you tonight."

Oliver grinned.

 

-.-

 

George entered the locker room with his Cleansweep 5 in hand, only to have it Chris yank it away from him.

"Nu-uh. No partner of mine is using one of those. Here," Chris said.

George glanced around the empty locker room as he took the broom from the female Beater. "Where is everyone?"

"Already on the field. They're warming up while I explain somethings to you and while you're Auror checks everything over. We have a minor league team playing with us so we can actually see what your skill level is. So just treat it like a real game, alright?"

"Uh, right," George said, nodding as he looked over the Firebolt Chris had given him. "Did you guys do this just because Oliver asked you too?"

Chris sighed, straddling the wooden bench. "No. To be honest, you made an impression on us, and we rather like you. Oliver did say you were a fantastic Beater, and we really don't have any reserves. We could ask another Beater, and we probably will, if you don't prove up to the task. And that's okay, none of us will think anything less of you if that's how it turns out."

"I feel a lot better knowing that," George said. "I just...don't like the idea of Oliver giving me special treatment."

"I follow," Chris said, getting to her feet and shaking George by his shoulder. "It's something we all approve of, and if you suck...well we won't be afraid to tell you. Just cuz we all like you doesn't mean we'll let you ruin the team, even if it is only for one game."

"I'll show you how good I am," George promised.

"You better." Chris handed him his bat and then hefted her broom over her shoulder. "Off we go now."

Once they were on the field, they mounted their brooms and took to the air. The red head was startled by how easy flying came back to him, and by how familiar the weight of the bat in his hand was. He heard the whiz of the Bludger heading towards him and smacked it instinctively, noticing Chris give him a thumbs up. They were still warming up, allowing George to get the feel of the field again. Finally, the referee blew the whistle, drawing in all the players, save the Keepers, to the center of the field.

"Better not fuck up Weasley or I'll knock you off your broom," Fredrick said over his shoulder.

The whistle blew and then the Quaffle was tossed into the air. Lauren darted forward and snatched it, slipping around the opposing Chasers and dashing for the other side of the field. George peeled away, mimicking Chris's movements to follow after Lauren at a distance so as to protect her if needed.

His eyes darted to where the other team's Beater had just hit the Bludger, sending it hurtling towards Lauren. George leaned forward, startled by the speed of the Firebolt but went with it. He intercepted the Bludger just in time, sending it right back at the other Beater. He was pleased to see it hit the man in the chest, sending him careening off behind one of the towers. A bell tinged as Lauren tossed the Quaffle through the hoop. As it was thrown back into play, Chris drew her broom up beside George's.

"Next time you get a good shot, make sure you knock out their Keeper. We're gonna end this quick."

Before George could reply, Chris had moved away, smashing a Bludger to hit one of their Chasers. It was intercepted and shot back at Li. George didn't glance at Chris for the go ahead, instead dashing after it. Li twisted in the air, but the Bludger nicked her broom, disorienting her. He reached the Bludger eventually, pulling out in front of it and taking careful aim at their Keeper, more than half the field away. With a grunt, he smashed the bat into the Bludger, sending it hissing through the air and taking off one of the flags on top of a tower in the process. He watched as it hit the Keeper square in the chest with enough force to slam him against the hoop, tossing him through it and onto the ground below.

In the next moment, the whistle blew, signaling that the Snitch had been caught. George flew closer to see that Li had it gripped tightly in her fist, though she was holding her stomach in pain. One by one, the team members landed, including the opposing team.

"You okay?" Chris asked, jogging over to the Seeker. "I'm sorry I didn't stop that Bludger, Li. I was too slow."

"It's fine," Li said, waving her hand. "It'll bruise but I'll be fine."

"Okay everyone," Fredrick said. "Let's all vote now whether or not we ditch Weasley. Weasley, turn around, this will be anonymous voting."

George obeyed, twirling the bat in his hand. He hoped they let him stay. It had been a thrill to play Quidditch again, even in a fake match. Sure it wasn't a career choice but just one game would be amazing.

"All in favor? And all not? Okay, turn around," Fredrick said. "You get to stay Weasley. You did just fine. We've got one more practice tomorrow morning and then a game the day after. I'll let Oliver give you the details."

"Thanks," George said, breaking into a grin as he shook Fredrick's hand.

The Chaser snorted. "No, thank you, Weasley. Almost no one could make that shot at a Keeper."

George grinned, and then jumped when Hermione tapped him on the shoulder.

"I tested the shields. You'll be safe. So I'll let you play."

"God, what are you, my mother?"

"Pretty much," Hermione said with a shrug. "Now hurry up, I want to go to bed."

"Yes, Mum."

 

-.-

 

"You actually weren't that bad," Hermione said as they entered the shop.

George waved his wand to turn on the lights, walking backwards so he could face Hermione. "Have some faith in me Hermi-"

"George, duck!"

Hermione's scream and horrified expression had George rolling to the side, and a green light shot through the space he had been standing in moments before. It was stopped by Hermione's Expelliarmus spell, the red light smashing into the curse to set off a hiss of sparks.

"Stay down!"

George flattened hismelf to the ground and with a shout, Hermione jerked both spells to the left, smashing the tops of his shelves off and sending bits of wood raining down on his head. He rolled away and stood up against the wall. The Death Eater stood at the front of the shop with his arm around Zabini's neck. His wand was pressed to Zabini's temple, and the Auror hung limp in his grasp.

"Drop the Auror and your wand. Now," Hermione said, eyes blazing.

The Deather Eater flicked his wand and Hermione collapse, a harsh scream passing through her lips.

"Come with me, Weasley, and I'll stop the curse."

"George...no!"

"Crucio!"

Hermione's back arched as the curse hit her again.

"Come now or I will resort to something a bit more drastic," the Death Eater hissed. His wand flicked and Hermione jerked again, her wand slipping from her grasp and rolling across the floor, just out of reach. He shoved Zabini away from him and the wizard fell with a thud and didn't stir.

"Alright!" George growled, putting his hands up. "Just stop hurting her."

"When you are at my side, we can discuss."

George approached warily, blocking out Hermione's whimpers as he neared. Once they were face to face, the Death Eater ordered him to turn around, and though it went against his better judgment, he obeyed. The man jerked his hands behind his back and tied them with a piece of rope. Hermione reached for her wand when he was distracted, but the Death Eater summoned it forward and letting it clatter to the ground at his feet. The witch tried to push herself up only to collapse as she began to cry.

George took a deep breath and then snapped his head back. It cracked against the man's mask, startling him enough that he released the red head from his grasp. He spun on his heel and brought his tied hands forward to whip them into his head. The Death Eater stumbled but before he could fall, George rammed his knee into his stomach and elbowed him in the shoulder, forcing him down. Furious, he drove his heel into the man's wrist until he released his own wand.

"Who are you?" he hissed.

The man's mask melted away slowly to reveal the face of Amycus Carrow.

"Oh. It's you," George said softly. "What a shame. I might be willing to play nice if you hadn't used an Unforgivable Curse on my sister. They are, as I'm sure you know, unforgivable."

"What're you gonna do, Weasley? You're just a coward," Amycus spat. "And it's not as if I'm really trapped either."

"Oh?" George crooked an eyebrow up.

The Death Eater dissolved into black mist faster than George could see, and when the mist cleared, Amycus was gone, and his wand with him. George swallowed thickly, stopping to pick up Hermione's wand before moving over to her. She grabbed her wand tightly and undid his binds, never fully sitting up.

"Hermione...are you okay?" he asked quietly, reaching forward to touch her shoulder.

She jerked away and nodded. "Yes. I'm fine. W-we need to report t-to the Ministry. You c-can't stay h-h-here George."

"Shush now. You're going into shock," he said, pulling her up so that she could lean on him as they sat. "We know who it is now, so don't worry. Just sit tight, the Ministry will be here soon."

She began to cry in ernest, clutching his sweater as she soaked it with tears. "Oh Merlin, I can't do this."

"Stop saying stupid things, 'Mione. You did just fine. Sure he's not caught but you're alive, I'm alive, and I'm pretty sure that prat Zabini is too. It'll be okay," George said. "Now get yourself together. Can't have your coworkers seeking you in this state, now can we?"

Hermione shook her head and wiped her eyes. "No, of course not."

George continued to rub her shoulder until a hoard of Aurors arrived, including Bell and Harry. "Fancy seeing you here."

"George, you've gone insane," Katie grumbled, seizing his wrist and pulling him up. "You're coming with me now."

"I'll handle things here Katie. Let me know what you decide to do," Harry said, moving to kneel beside Hermione.

Katie nodded curtly and then Apparated away. The shock sent George's stomach rolling but the ex-Chaser had no mercy, tugging him through several hallways before opening a thick oak door. She shoved him through and then slammed it shut.

"Sit. Now."

George obeyed, sitting in the only chair in the room. "So-"

"Shut up, George. Just answer my questions, alright? Where were you before you got home?"

"At the Puddlemare United Quidditch field."

"And when you arrived home, what did you see?"

"There was a Death Eater, Amycus Carrow. He had Zabini by the neck and he looked unconscious."

"Did he say anything to you?" she asked, pacing across the small room.

"Only that he wasn't trapped by me. And then he turned into mist and disappeared," George replied.

Katie sighed and leaned against the wall. "Merlin, this is very annoying. Do you know why he's after you George? Did he say anything at all?"

"No. At least, not anything regarding why he wanted me dead," George said.

"Okay then. So you succeeded as bait but Zabini and Granger have utterly failed in capturing him. Brilliant. You're going back to bait. Amycus isn't the most sane person and in his eyes, he probably thinks he's beaten down two Aurors as well as another wizard. So you're easy bait, and he's obviously very determined to kill you again if he showed up to the same bloody spot he tried to murder you before," Katie said.

"So I'm back to being baby sat?" George mused.

"Yes, and you better not complain," Katie growled, moving towards him. "I will rip your bloody head off if you do."

"Just one thing. I have a match I need to be at the day after tomorrow," George said. "Hermione checked over the barriers and she said nothing can get through them. I'll be perfectly safe."

Katie's eyes narrowed and she looked as if she were going to yell at him once more. "I can't believe you're that single minded. But I'm going to say yes. That is the perfect opportunity for him to strike so I'll have some undercover Aurors there on the lookout. Now, where shall I send you, George?"

"I'm guessing home is out of the question," George said.

"Take this seriously, dammit!"

"I would love to but I'm afraid if I do, I might go into shock as well," George replied coolly.

Katie's hard eyes seemed to soften considerably at his words. "I'm sorry George. I'm just...stressed. I shouldn't take it out on you. Is there anywhere you can go?"

"Oliver's. He wouldn't mind me crashing there," George said.

"Good. I'll be accompanying you. We'll raise up shields around his house for tonight as well and just...deal with everything else in the morning," Katie muttered, waving her hand dismissively.

"So...do I just go now?"

"Yeah. I'll be there in a few. I figure you'll be safe enough," she muttered, turning away from him.

George stood up and then hugged the ex-chaser from behind. "It's gonna be alright, Katie."

"You better hope so."

 

-.-

 

George knocked on Oliver's door, trying to keep down his shaking. Twice, he had almost been killed. Knowing that would wear down on anyone's nerves.

"George?" Oliver asked, opening the door and blinking at him in surprise.

George shouldered his way in and shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. Not like a lock would stop a Death Eater from killing him. Oliver touched his shoulder and he jumped, hugging his arms around himself tighter to try and stop the shaking as he leaned against the wall.

"Hey, what's going on?" Oliver asked, rubbing his arm.

"I don't wanna die," George mumbled as he leaned into the Keeper's touch. "It's Amycus. He's the one trying to kill me. He tortured Hermione. I don't wanna die."

"Bloody fucking hell. Come here." Oliver pulled him close.

"Kiss me Oliver. Do it," George ordered against his neck, fingers clutching at the man's shirt. "I don't want to feel like I'm already a dead man."

"I don't want you to die either," Oliver murmured, brushing their lips together. "But you need to calm down."

"Stop fucking ordering me around," George hissed.

His fingers twined into Oliver's short hair and he pulled the man close, pressing their lips together in a tight kiss. He tasted better than he remembered, and he nipped at Oliver's lips until they opened, slipping his tongue in for a better taste, pressing him into the wall, pressing so close to him he could've melted into the Keeper if he really wanted to. Oliver let him dominate this kiss, accepting everything George did until the red head was calm enough to pull away, cheeks flushed and eyes dilated.

"Feel better?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah. I'm-"

"Don't say you're sorry," Oliver said. "You say it too much, and it's never a problem."

"I could've died tonight," George repeated, leaning away from him. "I can't get over it. Twice. I could've died, in my own damn home. I am so bloody terrified."

"It's going to be okay."

"I keep telling people that. And I keep hearing it. But I don't believe it. I'm just destined to die," George mumbled.

"Why would you say something like that?" Oliver asked, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around George's waist to lead him towards the stairs.

They walked up them, side by side, and silent. George didn't want to say anything else, because he knew anything else he said would sound crazy or suicidal, and that would only worry Oliver more. So instead he just curled up beside Oliver and fell asleep shaking.

_Fred...where are you?_

 

-.-

 

When George woke up, the space nex to him was cold and empty. He turned over onto the space that Oliver had been, breathing in the Keeper's comforting scent just as the door opened. He flipped back over to see Oliver there with a plate of food in his hands.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"I guess," George said, accepting the food as he sat up. "We have practice right?"

"In an hour," Oliver said, sitting down at the end of the bed. "Take your time. Your story's already in the papers and I notified Fredrick that we might be late."

George shoved a forkful of food in his mouth, realizing that it was scrambled eggs when the taste his hits tongue.

"Katie is staying here, and she's the one who made those, so don't thank me. She's the one who's a good cook."

"Figures. You don't look like you'd be a good cook," George said.

"I'm going to pretend that isn't offensive," Oliver said, stealing the fork from George and taking a bit of his food. "Are you really okay?"

George set the plate aside and flopped onto his back. "No. I feel like shit. Knowing that it was Amycus just makes it worse."

"Why?"

"He and Alecto taught at Hogwarts when Snape was headmaster, and their punishing methods left Ginny in a state for awhile," George said. "It wasn't until after the war that we all realized the effects it had on her and while she's better now, I still wouldn't mind seeing Amycus dead in the most painful way possible."

"So, isn't it a good thing it's Amycus? All the more reason to stay alive so you can get revenge," Oliver said.

"I...wanted to kill him. I wanted to torture him to death. He brings out ugly feelings in me that I'm not used to feeling, things I'm not comfortable feeling. And I can't get revenge on him. Killing him in cold blood is murder and that's Azkaban for me." George sat back up and finished off the last bit of food before standing. "I'm gonna go take a shower. Care to show me the way?"

Oliver stood up, closing the door and folding his arms across his chest. "Sit down George. We're going to talk about this."

"About what? That I'm crazy and want to kill a bloody Death Eater?" George snorted.

"No, about the fact that it isn't wrong that you want to kill Amycus. You have every right to want to, so don't say it like it makes you a bad person," Oliver said. "You understand that right?"

"No. I don't. Wanting to kill someone is never right," George murmured. "It makes me too much like them. It makes me the bad guy."

Oliver sighed. "You wanted to kill Augustus Rockwood, didn't you?"

The air went from tense to dead. George instantly shut down, a hard barrier coming up in his eyes. "Augustus Rockwood is dead. That's not important."

"Dammit George. Don't lock up on me. Rockwood caused the explosion that killed Fred. But he didn't actually-"

"Shut up. I know he didn't actually kill Fr-him. I know that. But he was my other bloody half so of course I'm glad he's gone, and dead, and rotting!"

"Amycus hurt your sister! On purpose! So why isn't it the same?" Oliver asked. "Why can't you be okay with hating Amycus as much as you hated Rockwood? How is it any different?"

"Because I will never care about anyone as much as I care about Fred, okay? Because maybe I don't hate Amycus because he hurt Ginny, but I hate him because he was part of the group that killed Fred. And maybe that makes me feel guilty because I don't care about my sister, my living sister, as much as I care about my dead twin!"

Oliver moved forward, his hand coming up to brush the skin under George's eyes, and he realized a few tears had leaked out. "You have got to let him go George."

"I can't!"

"And don't say you don't care about your sister either. I know you do. I know you do because you are a caring person, whether you realize it or not. Whether other people see it or not. I just don't think you like to admit that you care about anyone," Oliver said quietly.

"I..."

"It's okay to care about people. They aren't going to disappear."

George backed away so that Oliver's touch no longer burned his skin. "I should get ready."

"Alright. You gonna be okay?"

"Eventually."

 

-.-

 

The hot shower had done him some good and by the time they arrived at the Quidditch field for practice, he had his facade of happiness back up. Oliver gave him the occasional look that saw right through him and when break rolled around, Chris ushered him to the other side of the field, leaning against the wall as she stared at him, arms folded across her chest.

"You look pissy," she said. "Hopefully you'll be able to get your anger out during the second half of drills. I can tell you're pulling your hits. You can hit harder than that.

"I-"

Chris waved her hand. "Maybe no one else notices but you're trying too hard to actually be happy."

"Way to see right through me."

"It's what I'm good at," Chris said. "Now, whatever Oliver said to piss you off, forgive him. The idiot thinks he's amazing with emotions, but he isn't, so he probably said something that made him sound like a total prat. And if you're mad at yourself, it's probably for a good reason, but try not to beat yourself up too bad over it."

"Oh, don't you think you're so wise," George said with an eye roll.

"Damn straight I do. Now stop whining. We have drills to do," Chris ordered, punching him in the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.

"Yes ma'am."

After practice, when George emerged from the locker rooms with a tense Oliver at his side, he was surprised to see Katie and Ginny waiting for him.

"Gin? What are you doing here?"

"Oliver, you'll have to return home without us. We have business to conduct," Katie said, her voice stiff.

"We do?" George asked.

"Yes. Now come on."

She snatched up George's hand and with a pop, they reappeared in the cell she had questioned him in the night before.

"I'll wait for you outside, okay?" Ginny lightly touched George's shoulder and then exited the room, leaving him alone with Katie.

"So what is this about?"

"We figured out why you're being targeted. I thought it would be a good idea to inform you," Katie said. "We were looking through our files and came across one of Amycus's sister, Alecto. She was killed by falling rubble, which you dislodged with an Expulso spell. Amycus blames you for her death, or at least that's the only motivation to come after you as he has."

George blinked and then began to laugh, not caring that Katie probably thought he had completely lost it, judging by her expression. "Your report's wrong; that was...that was Fred, Bell."

"Are you sure? We have an eye witness account-"

"You honestly think someone could tell us apart in the heat of battle? Trust me. Alecto's death was not my fault."

"Would he know that?"

"Probably not. He probably thinks it was me, which just makes it better. Of course, someone would try and kill me because they thought I was Fred. That is just my bloody luck," George said. "It doesn't change anything at all, now does it?"

"I suppose not. We'll have to change the record, then, and list Fred as the one who caused Alecto's death," Katie said. "You can go now, then. I'll be shadowing you and Ginny to make sure you stay safe, but I'll give you your space."

"I've got one more question," George said as he turned towards the door.

"Oh?"

Without turning around, he continued. "Who else is free? Which other Death Eaters haven't you caught?"

"It's public information, George, why haven't you checked the papers?"

"I don't like reading the papers," George said.

"Travers and Thorfinn Rowle," Katie answered. "Why?"

"Just curious," George said.

He met Ginny outside the Ministry a few minutes later, and she didn't hesitate to link arms with him and begin to walk along the sidewalk.

"Mum and Dad want you to come home," she said quietly as they walked along. "And I agree with them."

"I'm not going to go back to the Burrow, Gin. I can't live there. If I live there, Mum will never let me go. The only reason you guys want me back anyways is so you can protect me," George said. "I'm a big boy, I can protect myself."

"George, stop saying that. You would've died if it weren't for Hermione," Ginny sighed.

"You don't know that," George said. "I protected myself just fine, even with my arms tied Ginny. Stop worrying about me."

Ginny sighed and leaned into him, wrapping her arm around his waist. "You're a bloody idiot, I hope you know that."

"I'm very aware, thank you. Now, is there some other reason you're here to see me?" he asked.

"We need to go to Diagon Alley," she said. "I'm certain Oliver has neglected to tell you in light of recent events, but there's a charity ball after the Quidditch match tomorrow that you absolutely have to attend. It's to donate money to St. Mungos. Puddlemere United is one of the teams sponsoring it."

"Is this one of your ploys to get me out again?" George asked.

"That and Katie wants to use you as bait. You know, I think that's all she sees you as," Ginny mused. "Which is stupid because you're a living, breathing human that I care about very much and would rather not have dead." She stopped, turning to face George. "You don't have to go, you know. I guess...I realized we've been ordering you around a lot and it's probably driving you absolutely mad."

"You are right on that account. But I will go to the ball, if only to escort you of course."

Ginny bit her lip, eyes darting down to look at the ground. "Well, you see, I already have an escort."

"I was kidding Gin. My feelings aren't hurt. Who is it?"

"Uh...you'll see. It'll be a surprise," Ginny said. "Now, we need to get you proper dress robes. Come on."

"You are not avoiding the subject very tactfully, little sister," George said.

"Just...it's a surprise, and I'm not telling you anymore," Ginny said.

"Oh fine. He better be a nice bloke or I'll hex him."

"Uh...maybe I should take your wand away."

 

-.-

 

When George arrived home, Katie was nowhere in sight, and he didn't find Oliver until he had trudged upstairs and knocked on his door. Oliver opened it, eyes bleary, as if he had just woken from a nap.

"Ah, you're home," he commented. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, while I was shopping with Ginny," he said. "Am I...am I sleeping in here tonight?"

Oliver looked wary. "Do you want to?"

George's mouth suddenly felt dry. "Yeah, I do."

Oliver opened the door wider and let him inside to the darkened room, the only light being the moon coming in from the window. George stripped off his jacket and shirt, leaving his pants on as he climbed into bed beside Oliver. The Keeper's arm wrapped slowly around his waist, and then tugged him close.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his lips moving against George's neck. "I said some really stupid things."

"So did I. I'm sorry too."

"Sleep well, George."

"You too."

 

-.-

 

"So who are we against?" George asked as they mounted their brooms.

Chris looked at him, eyebrow crooked up. "Really? No one told you?"

"Uh, no."

"The Holyhead Harpies," Chris said. "Now let's ride, shall we?"

She held her bat out and he clicked his against hers before they took off into the stadium. Oliver brushed past him, knocking shoulders together and giving him a small smirk as he headed towards the goal posts. George followed after Chris, settling in beside her as the referee balanced the Quaffle. Everyone was tense as he bounced it a few times in the air, as if testing the player's reflexes. Finally, he threw it.

Lauren darted in but was smashed aside by a Harpy Chaser. The Chaser held the ball close and darted down the field. George peeled away from Chris, circling up towards one of the Bludgers which was whizzing around aimlessly. He cranked his arm back and smashed the bat against it, watching as it hurtled towards the Chaser. An opposing Beater slipped in out of nowhere and hit the Bludger right back at him. George rolled to the side and then stretched his arm out at the last second, hitting the Bludger as it tried to fly by him. It headed straight for Chris and the woman twirled her bat once before whacking it with all her strength, sending it back down the field.

This time, the Bludger met the intended mark, smashing into the Chaser's wrist as she brought her arm back to throw the Quaffle. The scarlet ball rolled out of her hands and Fredrick snatched it out of the air. George moved after him, flanking him with bat in hand. Fredrick leaned slightly to the right, and George moved with him, shadowing the Chaser while keeping his eye out for incoming Bludgers. Fredrick swerved suddenly and George snapped his head around to see what the Chaser had been trying to dodge, seeing a glint of gold. It was the snitch, hovering right by an audience member's face.

"Amycus," he breathed.

It was surreal, watching the wizard lift his wand and point it right at him.

"Fred, dodge!" he shouted.

The Chaser obeyed without question, swerving again to the right as the spell left the Death Eater's wand. The green light sprung forward and George flipped back, watching as the green light passed a bare inch away from his face. The shrieking began then as audience members realized what was happening and George whirled his broom around, drawing his wand as he did so. Before he could even focus in on the Death Eater though, the wizard was tackled to the ground by the famous Harry Potter himself. The crowd scattered as George landed on the hard wood platform beside Harry, throwing the broom aside with his wand out.

Amycus was flat on his back after Harry's tackle, and Katie was on the ground beside him, holding his arms down as Hermione ripped his wand away from him.

"You are under arrest for the attempted murder of George Weasley, as well as the murder of several witches and wizards during the First and Second Wizarding War. You are also under arrest for the use of an Unforgivable Curse on Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley. You have the right to remain silent," Harry said, holding the Death Eater at wand point. "Katie, Hermione, lock him in one of the protected cells. George, you're coming with me."

"But what about the-"

Harry glanced around, as if noticing the panicked crowd for the first time. "It'll be taken care of. Come on. Your killer has been caught." The Auror grabbed his wrist and with a flick of his wand and a stomach churning movement, they were back in an all too familiar cell, this time with a table and two chairs.

George sat down in one and waited impatiently for Harry to take the other. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"What the bloody fuck just happened?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, looking at George with a thoughtful expression on his face, as if gauging what George's reaction would be to what he had to say. "We took down the barriers guarding the field, not that they would have stopped an Unforgivable curse to begin with. We wanted to give Amycus a clear shot at you so we could see where he was and take him down."

"Are you out of your bloody mind? Fredrick could've died, and he would have if I had just dodged without warning him," George growled, getting to his feet.

"But you did warn him and no one's dead. Now, we'll be putting Amycus Carrow on trial as soon as possible, so you and Ginny will be there to testify," Harry said. "You're a free man now, George. No more Aurors will be hounding you, and you're free to reopen your shop."

"Has ministry work driven you mad?"

"Why would you suggest that?"

"The Harry Potter I know would never risk so many lives to take down one person," George said quietly. "Taking down...Voldemort was one thing. Everyone wanted to be there. This is different."

"It wasn't my plan, it was Bell's."

"You still had to approve it. You're the head of the Aurors, Harry. You're supposed to protect people from dark magic. Allowing a god damn Death Eater into that sort of situation is not protecting anyone," George snapped.

"There was a reason we let it play out as it did. Don't tell me how to do my job. You're alive, and no one is dead, so why are you still complaining?"

"You're fucking sick."

"And you're going into shock. Calm down, take a few deep breaths, and go home. To the Burrow. You're family will take care of you, and they need to know you're alright now," Harry instructed.

"I-"

"George. Go home."

George glared but obeyed.


	3. I Miss You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left to post, reviews are loved.

He stood outside the Burrow, feeling a little more relaxed. When he knocked, the door was flung open wide and Ginny threw herself at him. He stumbled back, surprised to feel her hot tears on his neck as her arms wrapped tight around him.

"Hey, what's with the tears?" he asked, rubbing her back.

"I thought I was going to lose another brother. And now you're safe and I don't have to worry about you anymore," she all but sobbed.

"Come on, Ginny. Let go. I've gotta talk to Mum and Dad, and I can't do that with you making my clothes all wet," he said.

Ginny nodded and released him as she wiped her eyes. They walked inside to the kitchen where Molly and Arthur were sitting. Molly leapt to her feet when she was him, her eyes wet with her own tears as she hugged him close.

"Oh George! Thank Merlin you're safe!"

George forgot the anger he had been feeling towards her as he held her close, disgusted that he had pushed his mum away for so long. "It's alright now, Mum. You don't have to worry. Understand?"

"George, I'm so sorry," she said, pulling back and holding his face between her hands. "I can't believe the way I treated you..."

"Mum, stop. You don't have to apologize for anything," he said as he took her hands in both of his. "I promise to stop by again tomorrow, but I need to go home. I just wanted to let you know I was okay."

"We understand," Arthur said, patting his shoulder. "We'll see you tomorrow. We...we love you son."

George gave a small smile. "I love you too."

Ginny followed him back out the door, grabbing his wrist so he couldn't get away. "Um, George?"

"What?" he asked, turning around to face her. "Is something wrong?"

"Beside the fact I almost lost you?" Ginny sighed. "Look. I'm going to stop by sometime tomorrow and let you know what's going on with the charity ball, okay? I mean, after you stop here."

"So, you want to talk about something away from Mum and Dad?"

Ginny nodded, gnawing on her lip. "Thank you, George."

"What'd I do?"

"You stayed alive," she said.

George ruffled her hair, making sure to mess it up as much as possible, before tugging her forward. He gave her a small kiss on the forehead and pushed her away. "Go to sleep, and don't worry."

 

-.-

 

George was not expecting to be shoved into a wall when he opened the door to Oliver's home, nor was he expecting to be captured in a violent kiss. Oliver's hands were knotted tightly into his hair as his tongue slipped into the red head's mouth. George groaned as the Keeper's taste exploded in his mouth, a sense of urgency rising up in his chest, demanding that he cling tighter and tighter to the other man. He gasped when the Keeper pulled away to move to his jaw, and then his throat, nipping and biting at the skin he found.

"I almost lost you," Oliver growled into his ear, his hot breath making George shiver. "Don't ever do that again."

"It's not like I had much of a-ahhhh." George moaned as Oliver's hand strayed down to rub at him through the thick material of his uniform, cutting off all thought. No one had ever touched him like that before.

"O-Oliver?"

"Shut up and let me do this. I need to know you're here."

"Oliver, I am-"

The Keeper cut him off with a kiss, rubbing a little firmer until George was bucking into his touch desperately. Abruptly, Oliver stopped and apparated them both into his room. They tumbled onto the bed in a tangled mass of limbs as their lips hungrily sought one another out, and George nearly lost his mind at the taste once more.

"Wait," George gasped out.

Oliver pulled back, as if he were just realizing what they had been doing. "Dammit. I-"

"I've never done any of this before," George said quietly, trying to calm his heart. "You were my first kiss."

Oliver's eyes widened. "I...I didn't know. I'm rushing you, aren't I?"

"A little," George whispered. "But I don't want to stop. I want to feel alive again."

Oliver leaned down and nuzzled George's neck. "I'm going to do much more than that. You're going to see stars."

His hands parted the robes, pushing them off George's shoulders before tugging off the top half of the uniform completely. George felt himself flush as Oliver's eyes roamed over his bare chest, drinking in the sight. Then, before he could say anything, Oliver ducked his head and took one of his nipples into his mouth, sucking on it lightly.

A deep moan ripped out of him, his hips bucking into Oliver's. Oliver gasped his name out in response and then knocked their hips together again, grinding slowly against them. George arched his back at the feeling. Oliver slipped an arm beneath him to hold him up, continuing to tease the nub with his tongue until George was shuddering and gasping in his grip. Without warning, Oliver let him drop back down onto the mattress, shifting his lips down to taste every inch of his skin.

His hands trailed over the waistband of his trousers, tugging at them every once in awhile, hinting that he wanted them gone even if he was willing to wait for the red head's go ahead. George swallowed and brought his hand down, pushing at the hem enough for Oliver to get the message. Oliver lifted his head and smirked, moving down to remove George's boots and socks, and then finally his trousers. The Keeper moved back up to kiss him, his hand sliding across his bare hip, thumb stroking it in a soothing manner. It slid over, bit by bit, until finally his hand wrapped around George's arousal.

"Fuck," George hissed.

Wanking by himself had never been like this. It had never felt so bloody good. The heat of Oliver's hand was perfect, and the way his finger lightly probed at the tip in just  _that_  way made a pathetic whimper escape his lips. Oliver stroked him slowly, fingers trailing over inch after inch as he tried to figure out just what made the red head tick, just what would make his back arch, just what would make more of those delicious sounds leave his mouth.

The Keeper broke their kiss to nip at George's neck. That was what did it and with a hoarse cry, George came, splattering his stomach and Oliver's hand with his seed as his back bowed and his fingers clutched at the sheets. Oliver brought their lips together again in a lazy kiss as he wiped his hand off on the sheets, and then ran his knuckles over George's shuddering ribs.

"Good?" Oliver murmured.

"Yeah. That was...really..." George cut himself off, reaching up to kiss him again before sighing contentedly.

"I suppose...I should let you get cleaned up. And then we can talk," Oliver murmured.

"Mmm."

Oliver rolled off the red head, and all at once, George felt shy about being naked in front of the man. He grabbed the spare clothes Oliver handed him and practically ran from the room to the bathroom. The hot water was what finally snapped him out of the autopilot mode he had been operating in for the past hour and he couldn't believe what he had just done.

 _So much for taking it slow and being bloody friends first. Merlin, I've gone completely mental,_ he thought, tugging on Oliver's clothes. They were a tad too big for him, seeing as how Oliver had more muscle than him, but that didn't matter much because they still smelled like the Keeper. He was beginning to like that scent a little too much for comfort.

When he walked back into Oliver's room, the Keeper grabbed his wrist and tugged him down onto the bed, stretching out so they were laying side by side but still facing one another.

"So. How are you?" Oliver asked.

"Really? You're going to ask that?" George snorted.

"Yeah, perhaps because I'm interested. This hasn't exactly been the most...peaceful night ever," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. "I want to know that you're okay."

"I'm alive, aren't I?"

"I meant...here." Oliver rubbed the back of his hand against George's chest, right over his heart.

"Then I don't know. I can't believe that we just did, well,  _that._ I guess I thought we were going to go slower than that, but at the same time I needed it. Badly."

"Am I really the first person that's ever touched you like that? I find it hard to believe," Oliver said. "You always seemed like such a charmer at Hogwarts."

George leaned away from him, a short barking laugh making its way out of his chest. "I might seem charming but I was never interested in anyone. I didn't see the point if I had Fred."

"You've started saying his name again," Oliver said. "I didn't really notice it until now, but you always avoided it."

"I guess I stopped seeing the point in avoiding it," George said, turning to look at him. "He's gone. I need to move on."

"Easier said than done, isn't it?"

George was silent for a moment. "How hard was it? When you're Mum and Dad died?"

Oliver didn't answer at first, instead tugging George close enough that he could wrap his arm around his shoulders and rest his head on his. "I almost followed my mum's example. I went from having a family to having nothing. My extended family had long ago disowned us for being blood traitors so I couldn't go to them for help."

"Pricks."

Oliver snorted. "Yeah, true. But then...I got so pissed off. I didn't want them to get away with it, and I didn't want them to win either and I knew if I gave in, then I would lose."

"Ever the stubborn one, aren't you?"

"It works in my favor. Anyways. After we defeated Voldemort, I didn't feel any better. I thought I would feel some sort of closure after the battle, but I didn't, which just made me angrier. After I saw you, I sulked for awhile. When I reached out to you, it was as much for myself as it was for you. I saw you hurting like me and I wanted to help. Anyways, the point is, it does get easier. The pain doesn't leave it just...scars over. Still hurts when you press it, but most the time, it's just a mark."

Oliver kissed the top of his head and rubbed in between his shoulder blades. George nearly fell asleep like that, but eventually Oliver shifted to bring them both under the covers.

"Thank you, Oliver."

Oliver ducked his head to give him a quick kiss on the lips. "Anytime. Now go to bed. I'm sure we both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

 

-.-

 

When George woke, he was crying. Not hard, but his cheeks were wet, and his heart was still pounding, and he could see Fred's expression as he died. Oliver was murmuring into his ear, quietly, but he couldn't focus long enough to tell what he was saying.

"It's okay, it's okay, it was just a nightmare. You're here, I'm here, calm down."

George swallowed and closed his eyes. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's fine. What...what was it about?"

George shook his head in answer as he shoved Oliver away, sitting up to mop the sweat off his forehead. "Fredrick was Fred. And he didn't dodge."

"Bloody hell. That..." Oliver broke off, unable to think of the correct thing to say. George leaned into him the moment the Keeper's hand touched his elbow, resting his head on Oliver's shoulder.

"What time is it?" George finally asked.

"6:30."

George groaned and pulled away. "No point in going back to bed. I'd have to be up in a half hour anyway."

"Do you want me to go with you, to the Burrow?" Oliver asked, reaching out to hold George's hand.

"If you want. I'm going to take my stuff home. If you want to come with me, meet me at the shop by 7:30." George pulled himself out of the bed and grabbed his wand off the dresser. "Thank you, Oliver."

"Never a problem."

 

-.-

 

George Apparated directly into his room, not wanting to see the wreckage down in the actual shop yet. It didn't take very long to pack away his clothes, and once they were away, he took another shower. Stalling for time, George cleaned and then neatly folded Oliver's borrowed clothes, but even after all of that, it was only 7:00.

"Alright, Georgie. Stop being such a pansy," he muttered.

He took a deep breath and then started down the stairs. It wasn't as messy as he thought it would be, but the scattered and broken shelves were still painful to look at. The shop had been attacked during the war too, and the damage then had been much more expansive. He hadn't been able to fix it up until after Fred's funeral, and he had rebuilt all of the shelves by hand. He didn't want to just magic everything back together. He couldn't magic Fred back to life, and he didn't want to magic their shared dream back to what it once was. It was more cathartic to rebuild his shop as he tried to rebuild his life anyways.

It was different now. He grabbed the trash bin from behind the counter and with his wand, waved as many of the splinters into it as he could. With a sigh, he emptied it in the dumpster and started the process all over again. When Oliver finally showed up at his door, there was enough room for the wizard to walk across the floor to join him.

"You'd think the Aurors would've cleaned up a bit after the attack," Oliver mused, kicking a plank of wood.

"Not their job," George said with a shrug.

"Still courteous." Oliver brushed his hand against George's arm, slipping down to twine his fingers with the red head's. "You sure you don't mind me coming along?"

"Better that you're there, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, gives me an excuse to get away if I need to," George said with a smirk.

"Ah, I see my purpose now."

"Don't hold it against me," George said, grabbing the Keeper's wrist. "Ready?"

He didn't let Oliver respond, instead popping right into the front yard of the Burrow.

"Wow."

"What?" George asked, glancing back at him.

"Your house is...beautiful. And huge."

"Really? Ugly, disproportionate, and sore on the eyes are all words I would use, but I guess beautiful works," George said with a shrug.

"It's beautiful because...don't you see how it's silhouetted against the sun rise?" Oliver asked, pointing.

"You're such a pouf," George mumbled, nudging Oliver with his elbow. "I know what you mean though. I...just never thought about it much."

"Oh come on," Oliver said as he rolled his eyes and headed for the Burrow.

George led him inside, shutting the door behind him. "Mum, we're here."

Molly appeared from around the corner, wiping her hands off on a rag. "We? George, you really should've told us you were going to bring a guest." Even as she said it, she reached forward to hug them both. "The food's already on the table. Come on in now, sit, sit."

George and Oliver sat down across from Ron and Ginny as Molly placed their plates, piled high with food, in front of them.

"So, Oliver," Ron said. "How's it like, playing professional Quidditch?"

"Ron, don't talk with your mouth full. Honestly," Ginny said, jabbing her elbow into the older's ribcage.

"It's-"

"Chew. Then talk," Ginny ordered.

Ron scowled but obeyed.

"Do you know if the ball is still going on?" Molly asked, shooting a quick, scolding glare at Ron.

"Ah yes," Oliver said. "It's tonight, at 9 o'clock. It would be great to see you there."

George cocked an eyebrow up, looking at the Keeper out of the corner of his eye.  _Sucking up to my parents, hm?_

"Oh we might drop by," Molly said, though her tone suggested else wise. "Speaking of, Ginny dear. Who are you taking again?"

"Just a friend," Ginny said as she met George's eyes, her gaze begging for him to turn the conversation in another direction, any direction at all.

"Oh, uh, Mum? Could I have Percy's address? I need to send him an owl," George said, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Going to open up another shop, are you?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, I'm considering it," George said. "And Percy mentioned he had some connections before-"

"When you open another shop, can I work there?" Ron asked.

"Oh no. No way little brother," George said with a smirk. "You don't honestly think I trust you that much, do you? You'd probably break something."

Ginny snorted. "Probably? Try definitely."

"You don't know that!" Ron protested, waving his fork in the air as if it would help him get his point across. A piece of bacon flew off the fork and smacked Oliver in the nose before flopping onto the table, much to the stunned silence of the Weasleys. Then,

"Ron!" Molly shouted.

Ron went bright red. "Shit."

"Ron," Arthur sighed, shaking his head though there was a small smile on his face.

Ginny and George dissolved into laughter at Ron's openly horrified expression. Oliver wiped his face with the napkin, a small grin playing on his lips as he did so.

"Wood, I am _so_ sorry," Ron finally choked out.

"I promise we're not really like this," Molly said, flicking her wand to vanish the wasted bacon.

"Yeah we are," George said, nudging Oliver with his elbow as they exchanged grins.

"It's no bother, really Molly," Oliver assured her.

The incident seemed to finally break the tension and the rest of the meal passed by through easy conversation that continued even once all the dishes were cleared away. After his mum had gotten him Percy's address, he and Oliver stood.

"Thank you for the meal, Mum. It was delicious," George said, hugging her once more.

"Oh anytime, anytime," she said after kissing both of his cheeks. "It was lovely to see you here, Oliver. Stop by anytime you want."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said, giving a polite nod.

George met Ginny's eyes before he and Oliver exited the Burrow, zipping back to the flat above the shop. "Ginny is going to be stopping by to reveal her date to me."

"Oh? She's been keeping it a secret, has she?" Oliver asked. "Well then, I'll give you two your space. I'll stop by around 6. We can grab some food before we go." Oliver leaned forward and grabbed George's wrist, tugging him forward so he could press a light kiss to his lips. "It's a date."

Before George could respond, the Keeper had vanished. Sighing, he trudged down the stairs to start in on the cleaning once more. The heavier planks he cut into smaller pieces before discarding them, as well as any of the ruined merchandise. When he looked up, Ginny was at the door, waving at him.

"So, do I finally get to know who you're taking, darling sister?" he asked without opening the door all the way. "That's the only way you're getting in here, you know."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, George. Now let me in."

George grinned and let her inside, not missing how she glanced around the ruined store with a sad light in her eyes. "Well, come on then. Tell me who the stupid bloke is."

"He isn't stupid," Ginny protested. "He's rather smart, actually."

"Oh, come on Ginny. The suspense is killing me," he groaned theatrically as he hopped up onto the counter.

"I'm going to the ball with Blaise."

George coughed harshly, nearly tumbling off the counter in the process. "I must be hearing things. I think you said you're going with Blaise? That's wrong isn't it?"

"Uh, no."

"...Ginny?"

"Yes George?"

"When did you get to be so bloody stupid?"

"George, it's not like we're dating," Ginny huffed as she folded her arms over her chest. "We're just going to the ball together, and in a few weeks I go back to school and never see him again."

"Uh-huh. Ginny, you are aware he's a total git, right?" George asked.

"Don't you dare get all 'You're too young to understand' on me, George Weasley," she said, jabbing her finger into his chest. "It's just one date. Calm down."

"I am perfectly calm," George said, not caring that the lie was apparent. "He's a Slytherin!"

"And an Auror," Ginny retorted.

"Why are you defending him if he's  _just_  a date?"

Ginny flushed, taking a step back, realizing the trap George had managed to back her into so expertly. "George, please. Just give him a chance."

"I'm not going to let a bloody Slytherin lay a single hand on my sister," George said stubbornly.

"I never asked for you permission. I just didn't want you to overreact at the ball. I know Mum and Dad won't say anything, they're much too polite, but you dear brother, are insane."

"I am not!"

"He's a good guy, George. Really," Ginny said, voice quiet.

"Fine, whatever. I can't stop you," he muttered.

He started when Ginny stepped forward and hugged him around the waist, pressing her head to his chest. "Don't be mad, and try not to punch him tonight, okay? It's a charity ball, and violence won't help."

He patted her bright red hair reassuringly. "I won't, Gin. And I won't tell Mum or Dad either."

She pulled back and smiled. "Thanks, George. So...do you need help?"

Sighing, he glanced around the shop. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

"Well, don't say anything mean about Zabini, and I will," Ginny said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"You ask a tall order of me, Gin."

"Oh I'm sure you'll be fine."

 

-.-

 

"So, I've got an honest question," George said as he mounted onto the Firebolt Oliver had let him borrow. "Are we allowed to dance together?"

Oliver straightened his suit jacket, an eyebrow crooking up. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"I just...you don't want to be known as a huge pouf, do you?" George asked.

"The team already knows, as do quite a few other people. The only excitement that will come from me dancing with you, is now the tabloids will go crazy knowing that there's someone 'special' in my life."

"Am I special?" George asked quietly.

Oliver moved over to him, broom in hand. "George, I know you're not that dense."

George felt his eyes drift close as Oliver pressed their lips together, moving them against his in a soft manner, never letting it deepen. "So...what are we?"

"Lovers, partners, whatever you want to label it," Oliver said.

"Anything but boyfriends. That just sounds weird," George said with a smirk. "Alright. Let's go."

Oliver mounted his broom, and the two shot off towards the ball.

 

-.-

 

When they arrived, a wizard took their brooms away to a storeroom. The ball was being held at the mansion of some big Ministry of Magic hotshot, and since the Puddlemare United team was sponsoring it, they were all waiting before a set of large oak doors with their dates.

"Ah, so I see he manned up and asked you," Chris said, shocking George with the amount of glitter and sparkles that covered her and her bright purple dress. "And this is a one time deal, George. You will never see me in a dress again, so take it in."

"She's not lying. I had to convince her not to wear a suit for fear that she would upset the hosts," Li said.

The small Seeker was absolutely stunning in her gown, which shifted colours as she moved towards him. Her date was another woman who George realized with a start was Luna Lovegood, her blond hair piled high in a mass of curls and ringlets.

"See, we're not the only same sex couple," Oliver said, arm slipping around George's waist.

"Loony-uh Luna. I wasn't aware-"

"No, not many people are. I don't really have a gender preference, George, I just like people who are nice," Luna said, smiling as she took Li's arm and drifted towards the door.

"Come on, we're right behind them," Oliver said as he guided the red head after them.

"Good to know someone knows what's going on," George said.

The doors swung open, revealing a grand staircase down to the ballroom floor, where the party-goers were all gathered, milling around the edges. A lilting waltz began to play as Li and Luna descended the stairs, gowns rustling the ground as they moved. Oliver linked their arms and with a confident smile, followed after. If he had known that they would be making this big of a show of it, George was pretty sure he would not have agreed to be Oliver's date, but it was too late now, so he would have to turn on his own charming smile and pretend that he was very sure of himself.

He found Ginny's face in the crowd, her head leaning on Blaise's shoulder, the Auror's arm wrapped around her waist to pull her snug to him. As much as he hated to admit it...they looked kind of okay together.

"Zabini?" Oliver asked quietly.

"Yeah. Shocker, no?"

Oliver looked over at him through the corner of his eye. "Not really. I heard they had a fight at the hospital after that last attack, which ended with him kissing her."

"That git kissed my sister?"

Oliver laughed as they reached the floor, sweeping him forward and into a waltz. George was glad then that he had learned to waltz earlier at Hogwarts, for if he didn't, he would be embarrassing himself even more. "Yes, but you didn't find out from me."

George resisted the urge to fly across the room and punch the Auror in the face, figuring that it would be a bad move and would ruin Oliver's publicity. When the dance finally ended, they broke away from each other, dissolving into the crowd. Oliver had informed him that after the opening, there was only one other time that there would be a dance, and the rest of the time would be spent visiting, and listening to speeches. Tables, covered with white cloths materialized throughout the room, giving the party goers a place to rest and drink wine if they wanted, and the waiters and waitresses began to shift through the crowd, offering small snacks.

"I can honestly say I've never been to something like this," George said as made his way towards Ginny and Zabini.

"Me neither. I'm not one for any form of party, really, but if the team is doing it, I have to too," Oliver said, trailing after him.

George stopped as he reached Ginny, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. The red head turned, a smile lighting up her face when she saw him.

"You look wonderful George!" she said as she hugged him.

"You do too, Gin," he said.

Finally, came the moment of truth. Could he shake Blaise's hand without punching him? He took the man's hand in his own and gave it a firm shake, locking eyes with him.

"If you hurt my sister, I will kill you," he said pleasantly.

"I feel like I could defend myself rather well, but I'll keep that in mind, thank you," Blaise shot back.

"Oh, and thank you," George said, taking the Auror by surprise. "For protecting me."

Blaise nodded, but didn't say anything else, instead letting Ginny draw him away before their somewhat good note turned sour.

"Wow, I'm impressed George. You didn't say anything amazingly rude," Oliver said.

"Hey, I can be appropriate when needed," George shot back.

It wasn't long after that, when they were asked to be seated, and a man ascended the makeshift stage opposite of the stairs. George leaned towards Li, who had joined them at their table with Luna.

"Who's he?" George asked.

"The owner of the mansion, Malcolm Graham, and one of the main doctors at St. Mungos. He's a good friend of Fredrick's and was the one that approached him about a potential sponsorship for the ball," she told him, then motioned for him to be quiet as Malcolm cleared his throat.

"Good evening and welcome. I am your host, Malcolm Graham. Thank you for joining us tonight, despite the recent troubles and last minute rescheduling. I am most pleased to inform you all we have raised over 20,000 galleons. On behalf of Puddlemare United, as well as the patients and workers at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, I thank you for your contributions."

The crowd clapped at the end of the small speech, but unfortunately, it was the start of several more, much longer speeches. George had to nudge Li a few times to keep her awake, but when it finally ended, the guests stood once more and the tables were removed. George followed Oliver through the crowds, making small talk when he could, but mainly observing the way Oliver was able to talk people into donating more money. The Keeper was very convincing, and he doubted any of the people even realized he had put the idea into their head. As he made to follow after Oliver once more, he bumped into someone by accident. When he turned to see who it was, he was surprised to see Angelina Johnson.

She stared at him for a heartbeat, confusion written all over her face. A moment later, she smiled and extended her arms for a hug.

"You look well, Angelina," he said, arms wrapping around her slim waist. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Well, when I heard who was sponsoring it, I had to come. I thought it would be a good chance to see Oliver again. Speaking of..." A mischievous light entered her mocha coloured eyes. "I see you're his date. Never thought I'd see that."

George glanced around but the Keeper had disappeared into the crowd. "Uh, yeah. Heh. Surprise?"

Angelina laughed. "It's not a big deal. Things change."

The orchestra struck up once more and George held out his hand as the couples moved towards each other.

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a crooked grin.

Angelina took his hand and together, they launched into one of the few traditional dances George knew, in fact, he was a little startled he remembered it at all. He lifted Angelina and did a half turn, spinning her away from him as another girl twirled towards him.

"Oh, it's you!" Hermione said, taking his hand.

"Where did you learn to do this?" he asked, arm slipping around her stomach as they turned in a circle, hip to hip.

"I read every book in the Hogwarts library, George, and one of those books happened to be about traditional dances," she said with a light smirk.

"Ah, I should've guessed." He gave her a cocky grin as she rolled her eyes, and then spun her away.

"Your brother is a horrid dancer," Angelina said as he caught her.

"Which one?"

"Ron!" Angelina spun away once more only to wind back in as he lifted her off her feet.

"He was probably in awe of your beauty," George said, letting her slip back down before leading her off across the floor, sending her into a twirl that had the skirts of her gown fluttering.

"Stop being so corny Fr-George," she said, blushing as he drew her close.

"Don't worry, I've gotten used to it," he murmured, holding still once the music died away.

"But I should know better," Angelina whispered as she bit her lip.

"None of that now," he said. He held her face gently in his hands, looking her directly in the eyes. "I know what my brother meant to you, and I know it's hard to get on without him. So, you mess up here and there. It's alright."

Angelina smiled, then stood up on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you George. Dancing with you was lovely. I'll see you around."

George let her go, a little reluctantly. He glanced around as he wandered in an attempt to find Oliver. A few times, he was stopped when people recognized him as the man Amycus Carrow had been so keen on killing. Finally, he found Oliver, but the wizard no longer looked happy, and there was something akin to fear in his eyes."

"George, we're leaving."

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Why are we leaving?" George asked, grabbing the Keeper's arm to stop him from bolting.

"Don't argue. Let's just go," Oliver murmured.

George was very tempted to refuse until the Keeper told him what was wrong, but eventually caved. Once they were outside, Oliver pulled out his wand.

"We aren'y flying home. Safety reasons," he said. "We're going to your flat."

George nodded and with a wave of his wand, appeared in his room. Moments later, Oliver walked in, stripping off his suit jacket.

"Okay, so are you going to tell me what in the bloody world is going on?" George asked, moving forward to loosen the Keeper's tie and slide it off.

"Thorfinn. Blaise spotted him."

George froze. "Please tell me you're kidding, mate."

"Wish I was. What I want to know is how the bloody fuck he got in there in the first place," Oliver snarled, an unfamiliar anger in his eyes.

"Calm down," George said. Oliver wasn't thinking clearly, he could see that. Oliver, the cool and composed Quidditch captain he had been so used to was about to completely lose it. "Now start from the beginning. What happened?"

Oliver sat down on his bed, running a hand down his face. "After the dance, Blaise came up to me. Said he had seen Thorfinn and that I need to leave."

"Thorfinn killed your parents, right? Does Blaise think he's come back to finish the job or what?" George winced, realizing how morbid his words were.

"That's what Blaise was thinking. That and apparently he was staring right at me," Oliver muttered.

"Bloody hell, not this again." He threw his jacket onto the floor, fighting the intense urge to punch something, anything. "Can't catch a break, can we?"

"Apparently not. George?"

"Yeah?"

Oliver stood up and moved towards him, but the door was suddenly flung open revealing Ginny and Blaise.

"You know, this is my bloody room. Privacy would be nice," George drawled, turning to face them as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

"I care more about someone's life than your comfort," Blaise said.

"Oh good to know. For awhile there, I was really wondering."

"George! Not now!" Ginny said.

"Potter and I will be keeping watch for tonight. Tomorrow, you and Oliver will go to Amycus's trial. By then, we will hopefully have Thorfinn in our hands," Blaise told them.

"Because you did so well fending off Amycus," George said. "Amycus isn't a dueler like Thorfinn. Amycus is weak and he took you down-"

"George! Stop!" Ginny was holding tight to Blaise's hand and her eyes were blazing with anger. "You don't know what happened that night, not completely."

"Not my fault. The Aurors have a nasty habit of not telling me things."

"Because we can't risk the untrained knowing things. You know that George, so stop over-reacting," Blaise said, his voice annoyingly calm.

"Ginny knows," George shot back.

Ginny flushed when he gestured towards her. "George, I can't explain now. Just trust them to take care of you, and Oliver, and me."

"She's right. Let's just call it a night and deal with it in the morning," Oliver said.

George, realizing that he was not only outnumbered but acting childish, just nodded.

Blaise turned to Ginny then, gaze softening considerably. "Go home. You'll be safe there."

"I'm not the one in danger," Ginny said. "You guys are the ones who all get in trouble." She kissed Blaise's cheek and left the room, giving George a stern look over her shoulder.

"So, are you going to stay in my room all bloody night, or can I get some privacy?" George asked.

"That is up to Potter. I'm going to put up protections. Try not to get killed in the meantime," Blaise drawled. When he left, he slammed the door shut behind him.

"I want to throttle him," George said.

"I know you do." Oliver moved to stand in front of him, raising his hands up to the red head's shirt. He unbuttoned it in silence, pushing it off George's shoulders and moving to press their lips together.

George felt himself relax into the kiss, letting Oliver push him back towards the dresser as their tongues moved against each other. He had barely noticed where Oliver's hands were until he had unzipped his trousers, and he pushed the Keeper away. "I should get changed."

"That was the idea, yes," Oliver said with a light smirk.

"So you should leave. I'll let you in when I'm done."

Oliver nodded, kissed him lightly and left the room. By the time Blaise came back to announce that he had finished with the shielding, both of them were already fast asleep.

 

-.-

 

The trial, surprisingly, was rather uneventful. Amycus didn't deny any of the charges against him, and before long, he was being led off to Azkaban, his dull glare focusing in on George before he was forced out of the room. George should've been glad to see the man go, but his happiness was somewhat choked by the fact that it was indeed not over. Not with Thorfinn running around with some sort of vendetta.

After the trial, George managed to catch up with Harry, hoping he would be able to talk with the man before he could no longer resist the urge to punch him in the face. He found Harry waiting right outside, and their eyes met.

"I knew you would want to talk to me," Harry said. "Well, I thought you would."

George rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, mate, even if I didn't agree with your methods, I should've have gone off on you like that. So, thanks, Harry. And I have a few more questions too, if I could ask."

"It's about Thorfinn, isn't it?" Harry asked. "Let's go somewhere a little more private."

"Oh, so you'll actually keep me updated this time?" George asked. "Can Oliver come as well?"

"You're pushing it, but sure. Just don't ask if your entire family can know," Harry said, his tone easy and light.

"Are you mad? My mum gossips too much," George said as he gestured to Oliver to come join them.

The Keeper's arm slipped around his waist and he lightly pressed his lips to the other's temple. "Do we have news?"

Harry gave a slight nod and led them down the hallway, past the press that had gathered near the end. After a quick glance to make sure no one was following them, Harry led them into one of the meeting rooms, locking the door behind them for privacy. "We've been gathering intelligence on Thorfinn all night. Zabini will be staying with you for protection, and this case is his. The man didn't go around your place at all, which means he knew you were being protected, or he doesn't know that you're there. Either way, the situation doesn't look good. It is possible Thorfinn came to finish you off, Oliver, but we can't rule out of the possibility that he was working with Amycus."

"So what's the plan?" Oliver asked.

"Live bait," Harry said.

"Absolutely not," George butt in.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Polyjuice potion, George. Calm down. We'll have one of our own duelists disguise himself as you, Oliver, and deal with it that way. That way, we keep you two, and hopefully everyone else, out of danger."

"Good, I like that idea much better," George said.

"It's not like you really have an opinion in the matter," Harry said, though his tone was joking.

"Ah ha, very funny, Potter," George said. "So we're free to go then?"

"Well, for you safety, you'll have to stay in the house for the most part," Harry told him. "But other than that, things should be wrapped up in a few days."

"Thank you," Oliver said.

Harry nodded and smiled, a crack of his real, old self, burning through, for just a moment. "No problem, none at all."

 

-.-

 

Oliver loosened his tie, staring at the ground to avoid George's gaze. George rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong, mate?"

"We need to be there," he said. "When they go after Thorfinn. I want to kill him."

George sighed. "We can't do that, Oliver. You're a good wizard, but I don't think either of us could stand up against that skilled of a duelist."

"George...I need to be there," Oliver said.

"Mate, you think I don't know what it feels like to want revenge? Because I do. I know what it feels like to want to run after the person who ripped your loved ones away and do that to them, and more. It's an ugly feeling, but it's better if you just push it out of your mind," George saidd, moving up to rub Oliver's arms in a soothing manner. "Please, Oliver. I don't want you to risk yourself going up against him for something petty."

"My parents dying is not petty," Oliver growled, jerking away from him.

"You know that's not what I meant," George said. "Come on, Oliver. Relax."

Oliver's hardened gaze softened. "I'm sorry George. You've had a hard day too. I shouldn't forget that."

George grinned. "I wouldn't exactly say hard. I'm glad the bloody bastard is locked up for good. And before long, Thorfinn will be too, and after that we can actually be a normal couple."

Oliver gave a soft smile. "I'd like that."

George moved forward and finished untying the Keeper's tie before leaning up and kissing him. Oliver didn't hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around his waist and pull him up so he could deepen the kiss. George accepted the man's tongue, rolling the taste in his mouth as he hastily undid the buttons of the other's shirt before slipping down to the man's neck. He nibbled lightly on his neck, liking the breathy moan he got in response, before moving lower to press a few kisses to the Keeper's tan chest. Slowly, he pushed the nice shirt and jacket off Oliver's arms, moving over to nip gently at one of his nipples.

Oliver gasped, and dragged the other's head up again so he could kiss him, moving him towards the bed. George obeyed, pulling the larger man down on top of himself as he kissed him harder, hands moving down to undo his belt eagerly. Oliver pulled back, faint surprise in his eyes at George's actions. "Are you okay with this?"

"Very okay," George replied.

To prove his point, he slipped his hand past the button and gripped his hardening arousal. Oliver let out a soft groan and dragged George down for another kiss, rubbing up against the other's hand. It was clumsy, for George at least, but Oliver didn't seem to mind as he continued let out quiet noises of pleasure into the kiss. Feeling brave, George slid down further, pulling Oliver's arousal all the way out so that he could see it.

Then, tentatively, he moved his tongue over the tip, grinning at Oliver's unrestrained moan of pleasure at the action. The approval encouraged George to take more of the Keeper's length in his mouth, giving it a few experimental sucks as he moved his hand over the rest of the flesh that he couldn't fit.

Oliver's hips jerked up a little, and George let it happen, surprised at how the taste of the Keeper's arousal didn't really bug him. Perhaps it was because he knew he was bringing Oliver pleasure that made it so enjoyable for him. Before long, Oliver was slipping a hand down to fist in George's hair, tugging as the red head's name fell from his lips in short, almost desperate gasps.

"I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that," Oliver murmured.

George gave a low hum to show him he didn't mind, then moved down a little more to work his tongue over the hard flesh. Oliver pushed up into his mouth when he came, a harsh cry moving past his lips as he did so. George held his hips down as much as he could, then slid his mouth up over the Keeper's softening length, licking up the mess he hadn't managed to swallow. He tucked Oliver back in his trousers as he moved back up, kissing the man hard and slipping his tongue in to give the man a taste of himself. Eventually, they pulled apart, and George gave him a cocky grin.

"Feel better?"

"Quite a lot actually," Oliver said.

"Good. Now, you should probably change into something less fancy. I'm going to go take a shower before I do," George said as he moved off the Keeper.

"Huh, I think I'll join you."

 

-.-

 

In the end, George didn't let the Keeper into the shower with him, not quite sure he was ready to be that exposed when he wasn't out of his mind with pleasure. He lingered under the hot water, trying to get his thoughts in some form of organized order. He understood why Oliver wanted to go against Thorfinn so bad, Merlin, did he know, but he was torn between running to Harry and tell him what Oliver wanted, and just letting Oliver work through his emotions and come to the conclusion that going after Thorfinn himself wasn't exactly the right choice.

By the time he finished his shower, he decided that the latter was the best way. If he told Harry and they threw Oliver in a cell until Thorfinn was caught, he didn't think the Keeper would ever forgive him. So, when he was finished with his shower, he moved back to his bedroom, a little surprised to see the Keeper curled up on his bed, head resting on his arm with his eyes closed.

"Oliver, wake up," he said quietly, nudging the Keeper's shoulder.

"Oh, sorry George. I didn't mean to fall asleep like that," Oliver said, sitting up.

"It's no problem. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute, if I could," George said. "About Thorfinn. I don't want you to get hurt, Oliver. I...I really would rather you just do what Harry and Blaise say, so that you're safe."

"Says the one who goes out of his way to break all the rules," Oliver said, but his tone was joking. "Okay George. I won't get myself into anymore danger, since you asked so nicely."

"Thanks Oliver," he said, placing his head in the crook of the Keeper's neck. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you too."

Oliver pressed a kiss to the other's lips. "You won't."

 

-.-

 

In two weeks, Thorfinn still hadn't been caught. George's store had reopened, so he was busy most of the day with that, leaving Oliver to wander around Diagon Alley with Blaise as his escort. Looking back on it, George would realize that maybe he should've found it suspicious that Oliver was always out, and always returned looking a little happier, but he didn't push the issue. Oliver was sorting things out his own way, and he didn't want to interfere with it.

But when he woke up one morning to a note in the place of Oliver's spot on the bed, he knew something was wrong. He picked the note up and flew out of bed to get to the hallway, freezing when he saw Blaise's crumpled form on the floor. With a hiss of frustration, he kicked the man in the ribs to rouse him, thrusting the note down at the wizard as he came to. Blaise grabbed it, eyes slowly coming into focus as he read it.

"You know, Blaise, you really suck at your job," George said. "That note says that Oliver's out to go take Thorfinn down himself. First off, how the bloody hell does he know where Thorfinn is, and second, how the fuck did you get knocked out?"

"For your information, it was Oliver who took me out. I was putting the wards back up and he smashed a wooden bat over my head," Blaise snapped, gesturing to said wooden bat which lie abandoned on the floor. "As for how he knows where Thorfinn is, I don't bloody know. I would be more concerned with going after him to make sure he's still alive."

"You aren't going anywhere without me," George growled. "As you are obviously too incompetent to do your job right."

"Get your damned hands off of me, Weasley, and go change. We leave in two minutes," Blaise growled.

George obeyed, though he was still fuming that Blaise would let Oliver get away, and especially that he would be taken down without even a spell being thrown his way. He met Blaise in the hallway, and without warning, the Auror seized his arm and apparated away. They landed in a dark cellar, but Blaise didn't wait for George's eyes to adjust, instead running forward.

"Incendio!"

With a whoosh, the wooden blank over the stairs went up in flames, collapsing down to the floor. George cursed and leapt, grabbing the higher rungs of the ladder and scrambling up before the flames could get him.

"Are you bloody mad?" George yelled.

Blaise turned. "No, I'm just giving Thorfinn a reason to run out of here. Incendio!"

Above them, the ceiling went up in flames, and Blaise yanked him out of the building and out into the field. George had no idea where they were, and the field went on for miles, completely devoid of any markings. The building itself was a crumbling wooden shack that looked like it hadn't been lived in for years, and with a creak, the floor Blaise had set on fire collapsed inward. There were three floors altogether, and through the broken windows, George could watch the flames making their way up to the second floor.

A window shattered, and Thorfinn flew forward. He ducked into a roll and then snapped his wand forward. Blaise dropped beside him, eyes rolling back in his head ad the unspoken Crucio curse hit him.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted.

The hulking blond flicked his wrist, and George flew back off his feet, landing with a thud in the dirt. "Do not interfere, Weasley. I am not here for you, and you can walk away alive if you stay out."

"You're not going to kill Oliver," George said through gritted teeth, scrambling to his feet.

Thorfinn raised an eyebrow and flicked his wrist once more. But George was ready for him this time.

"Stupefy!"

The dark wizard didn't move much, but he was momentarily stunned, which was enough of an opening for the red head. He leapt to his feet and rammed his elbow into the wizard's nose, sending him stumbling back.

"George?"

Oliver stood behind Thorfinn, but his voice had attracted the wizard's attention. He spun around, a Crucio curse flying from his lips. Oliver crumpled to the ground, but before George could move to defend him, he was hit by an Expelliarmus. Thorfinn caught his wand and then spun on his heel, delivering a hard punch to George's face.

"I told you not to get involved Weasley. Looks like I'll just have to torture your friend to death now, hm? And you won't be able to a bloody thing," Thorfinn growled, keeping his wand trained on Oliver.

The Keeper convulsed on the ground, wand spilling to the ground. George struggled back onto his feet, noticing Blaise out of the corner of his eye. In his hurry to take care of George and Oliver, Thorfinn had forgotten about his other opponent.

"Sectumsempra!"

Thorfinn stumbled forward, blood spraying from his back as the spell cut him open. Oliver got to his feet surprisingly fast, seizing his wand and aiming it at Blaise.

"He's mine!"

"Oliver!"

"Stupefy!" Oliver flicked his wrist, and Blaise was knocked off his feet, landing on the ground a few feet away.

"Expelliarmus!" Blaise lunged forward, but his wand flew out of his hand regardless and straight into Oliver's. "Thorfinn is mine."

Thorfinn rolled onto his back, eyes squeezed shut as his blood poured out onto the ground. George swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. Dare he deprive Oliver of his revenge, when it was right in front of him? Or did he let Oliver continue, and let him suffer the consequences, both mental and physical, after? Murder was murder, whether it be of a criminal or not, and cold-blooded murder had to be punished.

"Oliver, no," George said. He moved towards the Keeper, picking up his wand as he did so and keeping it trained on Thorfinn. "He's in no condition to fight now. If you kill him now, you will go to Azkaban for murder. Do you want that?"

"He killed my parents," Oliver said, gaze never leaving Thorfinn's face. "Damn the punishment to hell, he needs to die!"

George grit his teeth and then tackled Oliver, wrenching Blaise's wand from his grasp and throwing it to the Auror. Blaise caught it neatly and stunned Thorfinn once more before putting him to sleep, leaving George to wrestle the Keeper to the ground and keep him pinned.

"George, I need to transport him now. I will return in a moment," Blaise said, eyes betraying nothing.

George gave a nod and waited for the pop to signal that Blaise was gone. Then he punched Oliver, rolling off of him before he could retaliate. "Calm down, Oliver."

"Dammit George! How could you rip this away from me? I needed that closure!" Oliver shouted, pointing his wand at George.

George held his hands up, letting his own wand drop to the ground. "Oliver, stop. Think for a moment. He couldn't fight back. You would not be killing him in battle, you would just be murdering him in cold-blood."

"That's what he did to my dad! He waited until he was on the verge of dying, helpless, before he killed him. He deserved it!"

George stepped forward, grabbing his wrist and lowering it gently as he stepped closer. Oliver's breath was heaving, but he didn't fight George as the red head wrapped his arms around his waist, instead collapsing in on him as he shuddered. He wasn't crying, the sobs that wracked his body were dry. George rested his head on top of the golden brown hair, not sure of what else to say now that Oliver wasn't fighting him anymore.

"George, we need to go." The voice belonged to Blaise.

"Does Harry need to talk to us?" he asked.

"Well, no. I just...wanted to make sure you were okay," Blaise said quietly.

"Go do whatever your job is. I can take it from here," George said. "If Harry has to talk to Oliver, tell him he can stop by tomorrow, alright? Now's really not that time."

Blaise looked like he was about to argue, but he only shook his head. "Alright."

"And Blaise? Thanks."

Blaise's only response was to apparate away.


	4. Laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it! Reviews are still loved.

When they returned to George's flat, Oliver seemed to realize the gravity of the situation. His eyes lost their intensity, giving way to a dazed and stunned expression.

"I...you...almost died," he murmured.

George released his tight grip on the Keeper so he could rub his own eyes. "Bloody hell, Oliver. You're supposed to look after me."

That earned him a strained, painful smile. George pulled him forward, erasing the look with his lips. Oliver didn't protest, but he didn't respond either. The younger pressed their lips more insistently together, not really deepening it, just letting the feel of their meeting lips bring Oliver back down to earth. Eventually, he pulled back so that he could look Oliver in the eyes.

"I know that revenge is tempting, but you can't live your life pining after it. That's no way to live."

"You're one to talk."

"I deserved that," George murmured. "But I'm serious. You think I don't know what it feels like? You know I do. I want Fred back everyday, just like you want your parents back. Since that's not possible...we latch on to the next best thing, revenge. But even then, it doesn't help. It just grows inside like a parasite, begging for action. It hurt to know I could never avenge Fred. Someone else got to Rockwood first. But you...you're better than that, Oliver. You couldn't kill someone when they're helpless."

"But I almost did. I was...so close," Oliver said.

"You didn't though," George said. "I guess...I think highly of you, because I know if it was me back there, I wouldn't have hesitated. I wouldn't have stopped, even if you had said something. You aren't a bad person. Hurt, and maybe a little obsessed, but at the core, you are stronger."

"And you aren't?" Oliver asked. "Don't lie like that. You know you wouldn't do it."

"Fred...was my other half. I can never be the same," George whispered. "Ever. I can't claim to be better than someone else. I don't have the morals of everyone else."

"No? Then why did you stop me?"

George didn't reply, leaning back against the wall they had slumped down against at some point. He couldn't remember doing so. Oliver moved in front of him so that they could look one another in the eyes.

"Well, George? If you don't have any morals, why didn't you let me torture Thorfinn until he had gone mad with pain?"

"We aren't talking about this. We need to worry about you," George protested.

Oliver shook his head. "And you need to know that you aren't a bad person. I mean it."

George looked away, but Oliver moved forward so that their lips were pressed tightly together. "Oliver-"

"Shut up. Not now," Oliver whispered. "You mean the world to me George. I'm sorry I got caught up in something so petty. I should've thought about you instead of being so selfish."

"It's me who's selfish," George murmured against his lips.

"Still going on about that? You aren't perfect George, but that's okay. We all get a little selfish sometimes. We're both proof of that," Oliver said, moving so that he was seated on the younger's lap. "We should...rest."

George kissed him once and then nodded his agreement. "It's been a bit stressful. A little nap couldn't hurt."

They stood together, embracing once more and not pulling apart. George reached back to open the door to his bedroom and he dragged the Keeper through it, not protesting when Oliver pushed him against the wall and kissed him again, this one much deeper. He lost track of time as he stood there, tasting the wizard who had become so important in his life so fast. It hurt to think about really.

"Sleep, now," Oliver mumbled against his lips when he drew back for a breath. "I'm going to pass out right here if I don't lie down."

George snickered. "That would be a very uncomfortable place to sleep."

He let Oliver tug him across the room and pull him down on the bed, then wove his arm around the Oliver's waist to pull him close. In less than two minutes, the older wizard had drifted off. But George wasn't ready to nap though, and instead untangled himself from Oliver's grip and exited the room as quietly as he could.

Now that he had a moment to think, he had a few questions he wanted to ask both Harry and Blaise. He apparated to the Ministry of Magic, not quite sure how he would go about getting a meeting with the Head Auror without an appointment, but confident in his abilities to work it out. Apparently, luck was on his side, because Blaise was just exiting.

"Weasley? Thought you said you'd be by tomorrow," Blaise said, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I have a couple questions. Oliver's more or less relaxed now, and there was something that struck me as odd when we were fighting Thorfinn," George said.

"Should we, go somewhere more private?" Blaise asked, gesturing around them.

"If you would like."

"There's a cafe down the street we can stop at. It's a muggle cafe but...anyways."

"Now you're raising more questions," George said as he followed after the Auror. "What's a pureblood like you doing in a muggle cafe?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Ginny insists on eating there. She says the foods good, and she's right. Also, I don't feel like going any farther as I have to go back to work soon."

"You've been taking Ginny out?"

"I do know how to win someone's affections properly," Blaise said. It was a seat yourself place, and Blaise led him to a small table in the corner, accepting a cup of coffee when offered. George declined. "Anyways, I don't think my choice in dining is the main reason you wanted to talk to me. What is it?"

"That spell you used on Thorfinn. What was that?" George asked.

"Oh that. I probably shouldn't have used that. Try not to mention that to anyone, would you?" Blaise asked with a wince.

"Blaise, when did we get to be so polite to each other?"

Blaise sipped at his coffee. "Somewhere between me dating your sister and saving your arse I'd presume. Are you complaining?"

"No, I like this you better. So...if I don't mention its use, will you tell me what the spell was?"

"I learned it from Draco. Who learned it from Harry, when Harry used it on him our sixth year at Hogwarts," Blaise told him. "Apparently it was written down on Harry's potions book."

George couldn't hide his surprise. "I think someone else knew it. I'm pretty sure that spell took out my ear."

"I wouldn't be surprised. It's a nasty piece of work, and if Harry knew that I knew it...I don't know what he would do but I'm not keen on finding out," Blaise said. "Is that all?"

"Well...no. I want to talk to you about Ginny. I can't say I really approve. You're kind've a selfish git," George said. "On the other hand, you have saved me."

"I hate to say this Weasley, but I don't give a damn if you approve or not. I rather like your sister," Blaise said.

"Good. Just know that if you treat her bad, I might have to kill you," George said, leaning back in his chair.

"Are you threatening a government official, Weasley?"

George crooked an eyebrow up. "Possibly. What're you going to do about it?"

"Make your sister fall madly in love with me, just to watch you squirm," Blaise replied.

"Hm, that better not be your only intention. You better really care about her," George said.

"In all honesty, I do. I'm not going to intentionally hurt your sister, so calm down the big brother instincts, alright?" Blaise set his now empty coffee cup down. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'd say we're done. Thanks Blaise. For everything."

"Can't say it was a pleasure, but you're welcome."

 

-.-

 

_One Week Later_

"Are we done with trials now?" George asked as he hung his coat up on a rack when he entered Oliver's house.

"I hope so. That's all of the Death Eaters. Katie said they caught Travers not long after Thorfinn. We're really free now," Oliver said. "I feel like this deserves a celebration."

"Oh, are you going to make me something to eat?"

"I said celebration. That doesn't mean I'm a house wife. Besides, you're much more...womanly," Oliver said, nudging him with his shoulder.

"Um, what?"

"My muscles are bigger. Makes me more masculine," Oliver said. "So you're making lunch."

"Nope. We're going out instead," George said, grabbing his coat and slinging it over his shoulders. "I'll pay."

"So, it's a date?" Oliver asked, his voice serious.

"I figure at this point it would be okay if I take you on a date," George said.

"Just clearing it up," Oliver said. "I would be more than happy to go on a date with you."

George took the Keeper's hand. "Good."

 

-.-

 

George decided that he wanted to go all at out, and Apparated them to one of the fanciest restaurants in Diagon Alley. They were still dressed in suits from the trial, so they fit the dress code just fine. "Shall we?"

"George, do you have the money for this?" Oliver asked, glancing over at the red head.

"Don't worry about it, in we go," George said.

With a few bribes, George was able to get them one of the private booths, blocked off by a curtain, near the back of the restaurant. Oliver merely crooked an eyebrow and smirked at George's actions. The lunch went surprisingly well for how spontaneously it had occurred. When they were done, George dragged Oliver further down the street to an ice cream shop.

"I know this is incredibly corny, but I can't help it. It's in my nature," George said, handing the Keeper a cone.

"I don't know, I could get used to corny dates," Oliver said.

George was surprised when Oliver reached out and took his hand, but he squeezed it. "Good because I don't know what I'm doing."

"You did a good job for someone who doesn't know what they're doing," Oliver said. "So, romantic walk through a park?"

"You read my mind."

It took them awhile to find a park, having never actively looked for one around Diagon Alley before, so by the time they arrived they had already finished off their ice cream. Neither spoke as they walked through the quiet park, bathed in the setting sun.

"Thank you, George. Not just for this, but for...helping me out," Oliver said. "You saved me."

George didn't look at him, knowing if he did he would start blushing at Oliver's praise. "You would've done the same for me. Merlin, you already have saved me, more than I think you realize."

Oliver stopped, tugging on George's hand so that they were face to face. "Don't try and cheapen your actions."

George smirked. "Just stating a fact. I know you would help me too, because you already have."

Oliver leaned forward and kissed him, slipping his tongue in without pause. George couldn't help a small chuckle at the coldness of the Keeper's mouth and the lingering taste of chocolate ice cream. Oliver pulled back.

"You taste like strawberries."

"You taste like chocolate," George retorted.

"I wasn't complaining," Oliver said.

"Back to the flat?" George asked.

"Yeah, it's closer," Oliver murmured, ducking his head to nip at the red head's throat.

With a pop they appeared behind the desk of the store, stumbling a little at the abruptness of the transportation. Oliver didn't give him a moment to recover though, pressing him into the desk and kissing him firmly. George hopped up onto the desk without breaking their lip lock and pushed Oliver's coat off his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground.

"That's a nice coat," Oliver protested, nipping at George's lower lip.

"Mmm, and somehow I don't care," George said.

Oliver chuckled and moved closer, dragging George's body close as he slipped between his legs. He tossed George's coat on the floor as well, ignoring George's half hearted protest by slipping his tongue in for a deeper taste.

"I wonder if I could carry you to your room," Oliver said.

"Don't you dare," George threatened.

Oliver smirked. "You wouldn't be able to stop me."

George tilted his head. "Don't think so?"

"Let's find out."

George tried to push away but Oliver had already tossed him over his shoulder, hauling the red head up the stairs two at a time before George could react further. "You are bloody nuts."

"Been called worse," Oliver said as he set the red head down, pressing him into the door. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"You have more layers than me!" George shot back.

"Are we seriously arguing about this?"

"Yeah, it's a very serious matter," George said, pushing Oliver back and folding his arms across his chest. He crooked an eyebrow at the Keeper in a challenging manner, holding his head out of reach when the Keeper moved to kiss him.

Oliver made a small noise of discontent before settling in on the red head's throat, moving up to suck on his earlobe. George's arms fell to his sides as he sighed in pleasure, hips bucking up into the Keeper's. He felt the Keeper smirk against his throat before he fell back, stumbling as the older opened the door without warning.

"Dirty trick," George murmured.

Oliver's only response was to close the door and shrug out of his suit jacket and vest. George set straight to work on unbuttoning the white shirt, kissing his way down as he did so, only to move back up once the shirt was removed.

"I may pull tricks but you're a tease," Oliver said.

George smirked and rubbed his thumbs over the man's nipples, kissing him to muffle the soft moan. "Three layers Oliver. I have two."

"Still wearing too many clothes," Oliver said, shoving the wizard's jacket off.

George danced out of the way, moving back towards the bed and sitting on the edge as he began to unbutton his purple dress shirt. Oliver grabbed the shirt as George removed it, dropping it on the floor as he closed the gap between them.

"Are you okay with this?"

"What is this, exactly?"

Oliver kissed him,pushing him down onto the bed. "This is us going all the way. If you want."

"I do." They were both surprised by the lack of hesitation in George's voice. "Really. I...you mean a lot to be Oliver."

The next kiss was gentler as Oliver pushed him back so that there was room for them both on the bed. It was a far cry from what they had been doing before; heated kisses bordering on violent, minds moving so fast they barely couldn't think. This was different. Oliver tasted different. Before, George had done things with Oliver in the heat of the moment. Now though...now it was slow, and there was something about Oliver's deep kiss that made his toes curl in an entirely different way.

As their hands roamed over each other, they managed to kick off their shoes, making it easier for Oliver to crawl on top of him. Unlike before, the Keeper's hands were gentle, mapping out every part of the red head's body, finding exactly what made him gasp, moan, and shiver. And all the while, Oliver never let their lips separate longer than a moment for breath.

"I'm really glad we're taking this slow," George mumbled as Oliver broke away from him. "I...am still uncomfortable with this."

"We can stop," Oliver said, sitting up.

George shook his head and reached down to start undoing the Keeper's belt. "Never said I wanted to stop."

Oliver leaned back down to look him in the eye. "I don't bottom George. Sure you want to keep going?"

George swallowed. The thought of having the Keeper inside him made something hot spark in his stomach. He really didn't understand it. Years and years of not being interested in anyone, and then that one simple thought had his mind whirling in an instant. "Yeah. Definitely."

A slow grin and then their lips were pressed together again as George finished with the belt, unzipping the dress slacks and slipping his hand inside. Oliver groaned and moved down to bite at the red head's neck as George stroked him awkwardly through the fabric of his underclothes. The Keeper didn't seem to mind George's new shyness, instead just urging him on with whispered words. Eventually though, Oliver pushed his hand away.

"Going to explode if you keep doing that love," Oliver said.

He sat up, still straddling George's waist, and unbuttoned the slacks. He pushed them down his hips, then stopped just before he exposed what George wanted to see the most.

"And you say I'm the bloody tease," George said.

Oliver laughed and swung off of him, just enough so that he could get rid of his remaining clothes. "And once again George, you still have too many layers."

"I-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Oliver cupped him through his trousers, massaging his growing arousal. His head fell back onto the pillow as Oliver kept up the steady motion, slowly undoing the zipper and then popping the button.

"Really, nothing underneath George?" Oliver asked.

"Stop talking and do something already," George ground out, moaning as Oliver's bare hand dragged over his member.

He lifted his hips as Oliver finished removing his trousers, letting them join the rest of their clothing strewn all over the floor. The next moment, Oliver was stretched out on top of him, their arousals brushing against each other in a teasing sort of friction. Oliver's mouth covered his as his hand wrapped around both of their members and he began a steady rhythm, copying it with his tongue. George wriggled under his touch, a little ashamed at the small whimper that escaped through his mouth as Oliver's fingers slid over the tip.

Eventually, Oliver released them both, using his now free hand to support his weight so he could bring his other hand up to George's mouth. George knew enough about what they were doing to know what Oliver was silently asking of him, so delicately, he took three rough fingers into his mouth. The Keeper bent down a little to nibble at the red head's ear, coaxing a few short moans around his fingers.

"That's enough," Oliver said, propping himself up on his elbow as he pulled his fingers from the red head's mouth, trailing them over his chin, down his neck. He pause briefly to tease each of his nipples, smirking when George arched his back.

His touch on the red head's length was teasing and short, curving down to probe at his entrance. George's arms wound around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss as the first finger slipped in slowly. It was an odd feeling, but George tried to ignore the discomfort by mapping out the inside of Oliver's mouth, tongue tangling with the other's. Without even realizing it, he began to roll his hips up onto the intruding finger. Oliver crooked his hand to rub his thumb over the base of his length to distract him as the second finger slid in beside the first, keeping his movements slow so as not to overwhelm him.

It wasn't long after this that Oliver found his true goal. George's back arched once more as his fingers rubbed purposefully over his prostate, and Oliver slid down his neck to bite at his collarbone as he continued to run his fingers over the spot.

"Bloody...bloody hell," George panted, carding his fingers through Oliver's short hair.

He could feel Oliver's grin against his chest, but before he could remark, Oliver continued his assault on the sensitive nub, not relenting until George was begging for him to stop from the overload of pleasure. A moment later, he slipped the last finger in, stretching the tight muscle, but George's hand slipped down to pull it away.

"I'm fine. I want you, Oliver," he said quietly.

Oliver leaned up, easing his fingers out of the red head. "You sure?"

"How many times do I have to answer that question?" George kissed him once, lightly. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Oliver settled between his thighs, hand running over George's length before leaning down for another kiss as he began to push inside. George fought the urge to tense up, but couldn't stop the string of curses that broke free of his mouth. It hurt, but once he was in it settled to a dull ache. His arms shook as he held himself above George's stretched form, forehead pressed to the red head's as his breath escaped his lips in small pants.

"Merlin, George. You feel...amazing."

George nipped at his mouth and then rolled his hips. "Then come on then."

Oliver accepted the other's mouth in a sloppy kiss as he pulled back out, swallowing George's low whine, before pushing back in. It took a moment for George to get in the swing of things, but before long, they were rocking against one another in a slow push and pull. Never did the Keeper speed up, instead just making sure his length rubbed against the spot that made George see stars, and keeping the love making at the pace George set.

The younger hadn't thought it would feel like this. Sure, he knew it had to feel good, otherwise other blokes would never do it. But he hadn't expected Oliver to fill him just so, or for it to feel so bloody perfect. The build up was deliberate, bringing George as close as he could to the edge but never quite taking him over it. Before long, their kisses had grown so sloppy they were little more than gasps into one another's mouths, but Oliver still kept his pace methodic, making sure George always felt every inch of him.

"Stop torturing me," George hissed, biting down on Oliver's earlobe.

The move got a response out of the Keeper, and Oliver's hips jerked forward at the flash of pain and pleasure that zipped down his spine. George moaned into his ear, hot breath warming the skin and sending more shivers through his body. The Keeper's hand moved over his length a little harder than before, pumping him at the same pace as his hips. George arched up, knocking their hips together as his pleasure rose, closing his eyes tight as shivers raced up and down his spine.

Time seemed to extend for ever as Oliver pushed in an out of him, pressing against that special spot with each thrust, forcing George to shiver and jerk beneath him. The Keeper's thumb pressed into the tip of his length, massaging it deliberately to coax out another desperate moan from George's lips in the shape of his name. Oliver pressed his lips to George's once more in an open mouthed kiss, whispering something that George couldn't focus in on enough to process. The feel of Oliver's hand on his arousal, the taste of him, the sound of him, the feel of him, everything was just too much.

George's back arched and he moaned out Oliver's name as his seed splashed on his stomach. Oliver ducked his head and cursed against George's neck, arm shuddering as he came inside the man's tight heat. He did his best to not collapse his full weight on the younger as his arm gave out, but George didn't seem to mind, instead just kissing him and slipping his tongue inside for a taste.

"Sorry bout that," Oliver muttered.

"Sorry? That was bloody amazing," George said, chest heaving as Oliver rolled off.

Oliver tilted his head over for another slow kiss, fingers trailing over the red head's jaw. "Good. I...I think..."

"I love you Oliver," George said, pulling back so he could look the Keeper in the eye. "You...mean everything to me now."

"I love you too," Oliver whispered, bumping their noses together. "Thank you for everything. For being so understanding."

"No need to thank me when I give it willingly," George said. His heart was thumping loudly in his ears as he met the burning intensity of Oliver's gaze. If he doubted Oliver's words before, seeing that look erased all suspicions.

"We should probably get cleaned up."

"I don't feel much like moving, mate, to be completely honest," George said, grinning.

"Hm, if we shower together, we can be back in bed to nap in ten minutes."

"Mmm, sounds like a plan."

 

-.-

 

George woke from his catnap nestled in Oliver's side. He felt warm all over, though his backside ached a little. His cheeks warmed at the thought of what caused that ache, and he looked over at the Keeper, tracing his jaw line lightly with his finger tips. The man didn't even stir. It was funny, how quickly he had come to love the man. Had it really been that quick? Sure...a few months. But a lot had happened in those few months, a lot that could change a person.

George pulled himself out of the bed, making sure not to disturb the Keeper anymore. From the lighting in the hallway, he could tell that it was late afternoon, probably around dinner time, but he wasn't hungry. Just...restless. He tugged on some loose fitting trousers and a shirt before exiting the room, his feet began moving on their own to carry him down the hall. He ended up in Fred's room once more; he hadn't been there in quite some time. Was it proof that he was moving on, or had he just been too busy? He could still pick up on Fred's scent if he laid down on top of the covers. A soft groan escaped his lips as he stretched, popping his spine as he did so.

"Hm, Fred. Wonder what you think of my choice in partner," George mused out loud. "It's still difficult to not talk to you. I mean, bloody hell, I'm talking to myself now without you." He rolled onto his side, cradling his head in the crook of his elbow. "Angelina is doing well. She's...as beautiful as ever. Did you ever find it weird that I never took interest in anyone? Did you know before me? A better question is why I'm still bloody talking to myself."

A tentative knock came at the door and George rolled off the bed and onto his feet. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Ginny standing there, hands behind her back. "Hey, George. Blaise told me what happened. How's Oliver?"

"Taking a nap. How'd you know I wasn't in my room?"

"I figured you'd be here. You...always go here to think," Ginny said, bringing her arms around to show what she had been hiding.

"It's still afternoon, Gin. Can't be getting drunk yet," George said with a grin.

"Sod off. It's not about getting drunk. I just thought we could talk, and brought a gift to help you relax a little," Ginny told him, pushing past the older to get into the room. She stopped as George closed the door, turning to face him. "It's weird. I can smell him. It's that same smell, like whenever I used to hug him. Just like that...only fainter."

"It will go away eventually," George murmured, taking the bottle from her and setting it down on the dresser. His hand trailed over the smooth wood, chest tightening. "Sad to think about."

Ginny nodded. "Is it over now? Really over?"

"What do you mean?" George asked.

"I mean...are you done running away? Not just from Death Eaters but from yourself," Ginny said.

"I don't know what you're bloody talking about."

"It's okay to miss him, George. But...you can't linger."

"Come with me to his grave," George murmured, stepping over to her.

He ran a hand through her red hair as she sniffled, then moved forward to bury her face in his chest. "Okay. Right now?"

"We'll be back before Oliver wakes up," George whispered. "Just let me grab somethings from downstairs, alright?"

Ginny nodded and wiped her eyes as discreetly as she could. George drew her forward once more and kissed her forehead.

 

-.-

 

Ginny reached out and held George's hand tight as they walked down the rows of headstones. Fred was buried near the back, and each step they took, Ginny seemed to come more and more undone. They crouched together once they reached it, kneeling on the muddy ground side by side. George set his bag down.

"Hey Freddy. I miss you," he said quietly.

He wrapped his arm around Ginny as she began to shake, rubbing her shoulder soothingly. "Oh Fred."

George didn't know how long they sat there, but at some point, his legs began to go numb. He didn't move though, instead just holding Ginny close. "I wonder...if there's an afterlife. I wonder if he's happy."

"Probably. Less work in heaven I suppose," Ginny said.

"Ha. You're right. You know, Fred and I used to talk about that. We did on the night of the battle. Talked about what it would be like, and how neither of us were ready. Or at least I did. I think..." George stopped. "I never told anyone this before."

Ginny looked up at him. "You don't have to keep going."

"No...I...I said that I wasn't ready to die. Said heaven already had my ear, it could live with that for now. Fred just smiled though, and said he hadn't given anything to sate its appetite. I didn't know what he meant, or I did, and just didn't want to acknowledge it. I think somehow...he knew he wasn't getting out alive," George said.

Ginny kissed his cheek. "Thanks for saying that, George. That...that actually makes me feel a little bit better about all of this. All I could think about was how it was too soon, that Fred wasn't ready. But when you say that...I think...maybe he was okay with it. Maybe he was okay with the fact that he was going to die. The entire fight I was scared. I didn't want to die."

"Fred...wasn't afraid. He plunged right in, not a care in the world. It was a little scary, actually," George mused. "But that's just like him."

"Not just him," Ginny said. "You too. You are both so alike...in here." She tapped his chest and then smiled up at him. "I'll give you a moment alone. I'll be at the entrance, alright?"

George nodded, releasing his grip on the younger as she stood and drifted away. He reached into the bag then, pulling out a large brightly coloured box. Written on it was Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs. He knew that there weren't many trees in the graveyard, and knew that as long as he launched them high enough, there wouldn't be any damage. And he knew that Fred would appreciate the final send off.

"You've been a great brother," he said as he tore off the top and dumped the contents on the ground. "I'm going to miss you Fred. Forever. You were my second half, my better half. I love you."

He scooped up the trash and headed back down towards the entrance where Ginny was waiting, leaning against a pillar. With a secretive grin he threw away the box and the bag in a small trash can, snickering as Ginny's eyes widened.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Shh, don't tell Mum," George said. He turned back towards the graveyard and drew out his wand. "Goodbye Fred."

Ginny held tight to his other hand as he waved his wand, and with a deafening boom, the first fireworks went off, rocketing into the air and exploding in a shower of red and gold sparks. There wasn't a single moment of silence for three long minutes, the fire works popping off too fast Ginny began to cry again as some of the lights hung in the air, slowly forming a message across the sky.

_Goodbye Fred. Keep Laughing._

"Oh George...It's perfect."

"You there!"

Ginny and George spun, exchanging grins when they saw a guard running down towards them, wand out. "Do we run?"

"Of course," George said.

He seized her hand and raced down the street, a laugh tearing free from his lips. When was the last time he had laughed this freely, released that tight pain bursting in his chest? Maybe he hadn't been fighting back tears. Maybe he had been fighting back laughter. Laughter and joy that he was still alive, still alive to live for both of them. He had been fighting back life for too many months, and the dam was now broken, letting his happiness flow as furiously as it once had.

Ginny's own laugh bubbled up from her chest as they ran, racing around a corner, but not stopping when they heard that they were still being pursued. Eventually, they ducked into an alley and watched the guard race by. They exchanged another grin, laughing weakly through their panting breath.

"Thank you George," Ginny said.

George smiled. "He was an amazing brother. We'll see him again Ginny."

"Yeah. We will," Ginny said, taking his hand once more. "I wonder if it'll be in the paper."

"Oh it will be."

_Nothing less for you, Fred._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
